The Mona Lisa's Smile
by jenorama
Summary: After the events of Uninvited, Harry and Ginny have settled into family life with their boys. Finding things to be a bit too routine, they opt for a springtime getaway in Paris where they meet a very particular Italian lady.
1. Chapter 1

"Harry, it's so crowded in here. I don't know how we'll even get to see her," Ginny said, standing up on her tiptoes in a vain attempt to see over the throngs of people in the hall. Frustrated, she gave up and blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Do they even have anyone directing traffic up there?"

Harry craned his neck, barely able to see above the sea of people himself. "If they do, they're shorter than you."

"Hmph. Maybe we should come back later."

"I don't think that's going to matter, love. If you want to see her, you've got to wait your turn." Ginny shuffled forward, shooting a glare at the little old lady that tried to cut in front of her. The lady sniffed and subsided, giving Ginny a glare of her own.

Harry sighed and looked around the marble hall. Their objective was still a tiny, indistinct rectangle and the air was oppressive with body heat and noise. They'd been waiting for fifteen minutes and in that time, Harry had fended off several elbows to the ribs, accidental and not-so-accidental shoves and caught a man trying to pinch his wife's bottom. A wandless Stinging Hex had done for that one. Resolutely ignoring the nagging itch between his shoulder blades, he crossed his arms and tried to enjoy himself.

Letting his mind wander, he thought over the events that had landed him in this crowded museum in Paris, waiting in a God-awful crowd to see what was possibly the most famous painting in the world. It had been more than a year since they'd learned of James's budding Seer magic and witnessed a man commit suicide by Dementor and thankfully, things had been quiet since.

_Quiet, yes, but routine,_ he thought as they shuffled forward another few inches. _Kids, work, home, kids, more work, bed … mostly for sleeping, these days. _They'd tried to institute a date night once a week, but that had fallen by the wayside rather quickly, reducing their dates to a series of phone messages.

"Sorry, Gin, Artemis wants me to head up a new Muggleborn outreach committee …"

"Oh, Harry, I know we were supposed to have date night tonight, but Vijay wants to see more data on …"

"Hey, love, sorry to disappoint, but I had to schedule a parent meeting tonight and I think it's going to be a long one …"

"Harry, can you get the boys? We had some unexpected complications with one of our studies and it's all hands on deck. Oh no, it's date night! Can we reschedule?"

In addition to their demanding careers, they were in the middle of finding a preschool that met Ginny's exacting criteria. Harry waded through a veritable blizzard of bright and shiny brochures, all of them extolling the virtues of their particular programs. "Maths? Language? Science?" He looked at his just-turned-three-year-old son, currently engaged with pushing wooden cars around on a rug printed with miniature roads. "Are you sure he needs all of that?"

Ginny looked at him like he was completely missing the point and shook her head. "It's not so much about _what_ he learns as it is about getting him ready _to_ learn," she said. "I've spent much more time on playgrounds chatting to mums than you have and if they're going to compete against these bloody Americans, we need to get them on the way now."

Raising an eyebrow, Harry looked at his wife over his glasses. "You do realize that by the laws of this country, our boys are 'bloody Americans', right?" Ginny simply snorted and handed him another brochure.

Adding another wrinkle to their lives, Allie had started to predict the weather with an uncanny accuracy, tugging at Harry's jeans one bright, sunny afternoon to tell him that it was going to rain soon. "Allie, it's not going to rain today," Harry had said confidently, picking him up. "Look, there's the sun, shining on the Golden Gate … Bridge …" Trailing off as a shiver went through him, Harry saw dark clouds start to pour through the Gate as the wind picked up. Allie simply nodded in satisfaction as they went inside the house.

Ginny pulled on his hand, bringing him back to the present and he slid his feet forward on the slick marble floor, purposely bumping into her. "Prat," she mouthed, making Harry want to kiss her. _I'll have to thank Juanita for bringing up Paris,_ he thought, remembering the mailroom conversation that had spawned this little adventure.

"So, where are you guys going for Spring Break?" she'd asked, sorting through her perpetually paper-stuffed mailbox.

Caught off-guard, Harry paused in his own mail search. "Erm, dunno. Haven't given it much thought."

"No?" Juanita looked at him over her cat-eye glasses. "The minute school is over next Friday, I have a Portkey waiting to whisk me away to Maui and an all-inclusive resort. I'm going to eat, drink and be very, very merry."

Shrugging, he stuffed the announcements, memos and assorted envelopes into his satchel. "Well, it's just a week, yeah? To do a proper holiday we'd need at least two."

"Do you ever actually look at your mail, Potter?" Sighing, Juanita pulled an envelope out of the mass in her cubby. "Look at this."

Bemused, Harry opened the envelope and read the note inside. "Seismic retrofitting?"

"Yep. A whole extra week. Couldn't have come at a better time, if you ask me."

Handing back the envelope, Harry adjusted the heavy satchel slung across his chest. "Well, I'll have to chat with Gin and see what her work schedule is like."

A sly smile spread across his friend's face, showing her white teeth against her dark skin. "I hear Paris is nice this time of year," she said, setting Harry's mind to whirling.

When he'd presented the idea to Ginny that night after a particularly rambunctious bedtime routine where James and Allie insisted on running around the house like wet, naked savages, she'd closed her eyes and sighed, giving Harry pause.

"Is it a bad time for you to get away? We don't have to go," he'd said, pulling the covers back on the bed. "We could do a … what do they call it? Staycation?"

Opening her eyes, she smiled at him. "Oh, it's never a _good_ time to get away; you just have to do it. There's a few things I'll have to arrange, but I think they'll be able to do without me for a bit." Yawning hugely, she slid into bed.

"I thought that we could leave the boys with your parents." Harry got into bed, his attempt to snuggle up closer to her foiled when she pulled a thick packet of papers seemingly out of thin air. "I thought you were tired."

"I'm exhausted, but I need to get through this. I've got a meeting at nine tomorrow and I'm letting that Aaron lead it. I'm not as familiar with this bit of research as I ought to be." She frowned as she read and put the papers down after a moment. "Wait, leave the boys with Mum and Dad?"

"Yeah. Is that all right?" Harry looked at her in the light of the room, the tank top she wore displaying her hummingbird tattoo. The red on the bird's throat pulsed in time with her heartbeat and he found himself staring at it.

"Should be fine. Mum's been making noise about us bringing the boys for an extended stay over the summer anyway." She got a faraway look in her eyes and he reached out, pressing the tip of his finger against the pulsing red ink. "This would be our first time getting away without them."

"Mmm hm." He leaned forward, pressing his lips to that alluring spot, thoughts of Paris nights with Ginny filling his head.

"That'll be nice. Just the two of us again." She gave a happy sigh and picked up her papers again. "Good night, love."

"Good night," Harry said, abandoning his effort to pull her away from her papers. _There will be no papers in Paris,_ he resolved.

In the line, Ginny bounced on the balls of her feet and Harry put his arm around her waist, pulling her close enough to rest his chin on top of her head. Her body against his felt very nice and he let himself relax into the sensation.

"Harry," Ginny murmured, barely audible above the sound of the crowd. "We're in a public place."

"So? No one can see anything." Settling her bum more firmly against him, she started to move up and down, creating a maddening friction. "Are you trying to get us thrown out?" Harry whispered against her ear. "You're never going to get to see your painting if you keep that up."

In response, Ginny stopped moving, but pressed more firmly against him, making him groan. "Oh, sorry. Need to move," she said, taking one big step forward and leaving him bereft of her contact as she shot him a saucy grin over her shoulder.

Harry put out a hand to stop an opportunistic interloper and closed the gap, resting a hand on Ginny's shoulder as they waited their turn to see the Mona Lisa. "What do you think the boys are doing right now?" she said as they slowly inched closer.

"Hmm, right this very moment?" Harry pursed his lips and frowned, hoping that he was giving a good impression of being very deep in thought.

Ginny looked at her watch. "It's coming up on Allie's nap time. I hope Mum doesn't try and make him stay awake; he'll be an absolute tyrant if he doesn't go down."

"Oh, love," Harry said, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her temple. "Your mum knows a thing or two about toddlers, I reckon."

"Yeah, I know …" Sighing, she shrugged and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, giving Harry a sidelong look. "This is the first time we've been away from them other than just overnight. Maybe I should send Mum a message?"

"You remember when Teddy came to stay? How it seemed every time we turned around, there was Andromeda's swan with another question or bit of information?" Eleven-year-old Teddy had seemed like he was everywhere at once, constantly asking questions and nearly always underfoot and Andromeda's swan Patronus only added to the early chaos.

"Well, they're both weaned, James is potty trained and Allie only poos in his nappy now." Ginny leaned against Harry, voice wistful. "I suppose Mum can handle them with no trouble. I guess they don't need me as much."

A surge of warmth swept through Harry at the thought of their growing family, reminding him of that first glimpse in the Mirror of Erised. "Don't worry, love," he whispered, tickling the edge of her ear with his lips. "I'll always need you." Turning her head, Ginny kissed him, her mouth soft against his and he sank into it until the rather large man behind them cleared his throat.

Blushing at being caught, Ginny quickly closed the gap and Harry resigned himself to more waiting. "We should have come closer to closing," Ginny remarked. "But you apparently have some sort of surprise arranged tonight."

"I do." Harry grinned, getting ready for her attempts to wheedle it out of him.

"Is there a dress code?"

"I already told you that."

"You just said to wear that little black thing you like."

"Yes."

"And what are you going to wear?"

"Not a little black dress."

Ginny crossed her arms and looked up at him with one eyebrow raised. "But I bet it's not dress robes. I didn't see you pack anything like that."

"You didn't see me pack everything," Harry said, gently maneuvering her backwards. They were finally approaching their goal and he heaved an internal sigh of relief.

"I saw you pack your suit," she said. "So we must be going somewhere nice, but Muggle."

Harry shrugged and rocked back and forth on his feet. "Astounding deductive reasoning, Mrs Potter."

"Thank you," she said, acknowledging his praise with a haughty nod as she took another backwards step, finally reaching their goal.

"You got your little book ready and your pencils sharpened?" Harry put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around, helping her get to a good vantage point, subtly pushing aside a man with an enormous camera.

Ginny stared in silence at the surprisingly diminutive masterpiece. "Oh, Harry. She's beautiful," Ginny breathed after several reverent moments. Harry looked at the painting, trying to see some of what his wife obviously saw in it and shrugged.

"She looks a bit like she's going bald."

"That was the style. Highborn ladies of the time plucked their hair to give them the illusion of a high, refined forehead." Ginny opened her little spiral-bound sketchbook and pulled a pencil from somewhere out of her hair.

"Well, she must have gotten carried away." Harry sidestepped her elbow in the ribs, nearly bumping into the gentleman with the camera again.

Ginny snorted and visibly put him from her mind, staring at the painting behind the bulletproof glass. Nodding to one of the security guards that flanked the painting, Harry stepped aside to make room for another admirer. He would much rather admire his wife as she focused on creating her own sketch of the famous painting. Now that he had a wall at his back, the nagging itch that had been plaguing him finally started to subside.

After spending several moments assessing the crowd for threats, he turned his attention to Ginny as she stared at the painting. Her face had that strange, wide-eyed almost vacant expression that meant she was utterly focused on what was in front of her, absorbing as much detail as she could. Almost as if she were in a trance, she put pencil to paper, her hand flying as she started sketching with sure strokes.

Once she started drawing, her face lost the vacant look and came alive. Scowling, smiling, pouting … _I bet I can just about read her thoughts,_ Harry mused, shooting a glare at an overzealous American woman that was getting dangerously close to joggling Ginny's elbow. Assured by the American's contrite look, he allowed his eyes to wander around the packed gallery.

He was looking at a painting of a richly-dressed man holding the reins of a very fat horse when he saw Ginny stiffen and cock her head at the painting. Frowning, he looked at the painting and back at Ginny. She shook her head, focusing back on her sketching and Harry allowed his eyes to wander once more, going back to staring at the fat horse.

"Harry!" Ginny hissed above the sound of the crowd, motioning frantically at him.

Stepping away from his spot next to the guard, he joined her in front of the painting, carefully maneuvering around a group of young teenage girls trying to take selfies with the Mona Lisa in the background. "All right?" he asked quietly, senses on alert.

Her sketch forgotten, Ginny frowned, narrowing her eyes at the painting. "I think there's more to the Mona Lisa than we thought," she said, keeping her voice low.

Harry looked at the image behind the thick glass. It looked the same as every other photograph of it he'd ever seen. "Gin, I don't—" he began, cut off when the woman in the painting blinked.

"Did you see that?" Ginny whispered urgently. "Harry, she's a _wizarding_ portrait!"

Harry stared at the painting, willing himself to be still and shut out everything else around him in the crowded, noisy gallery. His heart skipped a beat when the woman in the painting sighed and leaned against the window, settling her chin in her hand as she gazed out at the hills. "What the hell?" he breathed.

"Did you know? I've never heard that da Vinci was a wizard! I wonder if his other paintings … Harry! Can we go to Milan?" Ginny asked, tugging on the sleeve of his jumper.

"Um, I suppose we … could …" Harry smiled down at his wife, trailing off as a 'you're being watched' sensation crawled across his skin.

"Harry!" Ginny gasped, digging her fingernails into his arm. "She sees us! She can tell we can see her moving!"

Harry looked back up at the painting and saw that the Mona Lisa had lost all semblance of a calm woman looking out on the world and now stared at the two of them avidly, almost hungrily. "Um … hm." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the guards looking their way. "Finish your sketch, love," he said, nudging her hand holding the sketchbook.

"But—" Ginny began and Harry cut her off with a kiss. "Finish your sketch and we'll go get something to eat in the cafe," he whispered, cutting his eyes at the guard.

"All right," she said, taking up her sketchbook once more. Harry squeezed her arm and went back to his spot by the guard. He glanced at the painting, the Mona Lisa still looking between him and Ginny. She took on a calculating expression and a tingle ran down Harry's spine.

As Ginny continued to sketch, he watched the painting.

_She's got something up her sleeve. What could a painting possibly need?_

* * *

Ginny put the finishing touches on her makeup, carefully blotting her dark-red lipstick. Nodding at her reflection, she smoothed the bodice of her dress, the lace rough against her fingertips. "That black thing you like, indeed," she said, raising an eyebrow. Turning from side to side, she surveyed her figure critically, trying to assess how having two children in relatively quick succession might have affected her figure. _Hips are a bit wider these days, but the dress still fits, so not completely out of bounds, I suppose. That wobbly bit though …_ She wrinkled her nose at the loose bit of stomach that refused to go anywhere, no matter what she did. The image of her mother came to her in all of her soft roundness and she felt a twinge of disloyalty at being glad she'd escaped that fate. _So far, anyway._

She put her hands under her breasts in an effort to assess them, trying to judge if they were larger or not. _Allie's been weaned for three months now, so … I guess they're a bit larger?_ she thought, trying to remember her breasts pre-baby. _Maybe I should ask Harry._ A sly smile crossed her face and a shiver shot through her gut.

"Speaking of, I suppose I'd better find him," she said out loud to the empty bathroom. Stepping into her black velvet high heels, she picked up a light coat suitable for the spring evening. She still had no idea where they were going, so she figured it would be prudent to be prepared.

"Meet me down at the bar," Harry had said, sticking his head into the bathroom as she was drying her hair.

"We're not going down together?"

"No. I have some things I need to take care of."

"Oh? Such as?" Ginny paused in her hair drying efforts to look at him. All she saw was his head as he leaned in the doorway.

"All will be revealed," he said, giving her a wolfish grin.

"Be off with you, then." She waved her hand at him, suppressing a giggle when he winked at her. _And now he's nowhere to be found. _She stood at the entrance to the hotel's bar, trying not to look like she was looking for someone while she tried to spot Harry. Not seeing him, she shrugged and went in, taking a seat at the mahogany bar.

"Madamoiselle?" the bartender asked, placing a clean white cocktail napkin in front of her.

"Bourbon et ginger s'il vous plait," she said, charmed at him calling her a young lady. _Not bad for mid-30s! I'll take it!_

"Bon," the bartender said, turning to a man that had seated himself a couple of stools away.

As she waited for her drink, she looked around the dim room, trying to see if she could spot Harry hiding in a corner somewhere, watching her. The thought of him doing something like that gave her a strange, crawling sensation on the back of her neck that was somehow both creepy and thrilling. "Merci," she said, as the bartender set her drink in front of her. She pulled out a 20 euro note and set it on the bar next to the glass.

"Non," he said, nodding his head toward the gentleman two barstools away. Ginny looked over, disappointed to see neatly-arranged blond hair instead of messy black and nodded her head.

He seemed to take that as an invitation and moved over, bringing himself and his martini right next to her. Ginny tried to think of how to say, "Thanks for the drink, but I'm not interested," in French and came up empty, resigning herself to entertaining the man until Harry decided to show up. _Which he'd bloody well better do soon!_

"It's fantastic to finally hear a familiar voice," he said, surprising Ginny with his Irish accent. "I've been here a week solid and all I've heard is this ridiculous French honking!"

Taken aback by his assessment of the French language, Ginny cut her eyes towards the bartender, glad to see that he was having an animated conversation with a gentleman that had an impressive handlebar mustache and didn't seem to be paying them any mind. She took a sip of her drink, deciding how to respond. "County Kerry, am I right?" she asked, just as he opened his mouth to speak again.

His blue eyes widened in amazement, crow's feet crinkling in the corners as he grinned. "Aye, you've got me! How did you guess that?"

"I knew a boy at school that sounded a lot like you," Ginny said, taking another sip of her very good drink.

"But you don't have the Irish in you, do you?" he asked, leaning one elbow on the bar, looking to Ginny like he was settling in for a long chat. "What sort of school was this?"

"A very exclusive, private school," Ginny said. Her eyes swept the bar again, looking for Harry.

He took a swig of his martini, holding the stem of the glass in his long fingers. "Private? You don't look like a private school swot."

"No? What do I look like?" Ginny turned to face him, engaged by his easy friendliness in spite of herself.

"You look like a girl that knows how to have a bit of fun," he said after giving her a good look. "I bet you played sport at school."

"Well spotted! I did play sport at school." _You'll never guess which one, though. _She narrowed her eyes at him as if she were examining some new species of bug. "You have the look of a … footballer to me."

"Ah, close! Rugby!" he said, puffing out his chest. "Flanker. I like to be in the middle of all the action."

"I'm sure you do," Ginny murmured. She'd only had half of her drink, but she was contemplating abandoning it and going back up to their room. _I'll send Harry a Patronus and tell him to come find me._ "Sorry?" she said, realizing he was still talking to her.

"I said I was being rude. Let me introduce myself. Brian O'Malley," he said, holding out his hand.

Ginny looked down at it, manners her mother had drilled into her taking over. "Jenny," she said, taking his warm hand in hers. The moment she touched him, a tingle like a mild electric shock went through her and she blinked several times in quick succession. When her vision cleared, Harry sat on the stool next to her. "I should have known!" she said, face flooding with color.

"Constant vigilance," Harry whispered, leaning forward to kiss her.

"How did I do?" Flustered, she picked up her glass, wishing she dared to hold it to her warm cheeks.

"Not too bad. You didn't give your real name and well done on identifying the accent."

"That should have tipped me off right there. Is Seamus really the only Irishman you know?"

"The only one I'll admit to." Harry grinned and finished his martini. "Are you ready?"

"For?"

"You'll see." He hopped off the stool and held out his hand to her, giving Ginny her first opportunity to get a good look at him. He had on a charcoal-colored suit that skimmed his lean body and a pale blue shirt with a subtle pinstripe. In lieu of a tie, a sky-blue pocket square and shiny black shoes completed the look.

She reached out and unbuttoned another button of his shirt, getting a glimpse of dark hair near the hollow of his throat. "Two undone always looks better," she said, taking his hand and hopping off the barstool.

"Why not just do three?"

"Harry, you want to look intriguing, not trashy." Ginny put on her coat and took Harry's hand, squeezing it tight. "Do you feel like telling me where we're going?"

"And ruin the surprise? Where's your sense of adventure?" Harry smiled down at her, squeezing her hand harder and she found herself swept up in his enthusiasm, practically skipping down the marble steps of the hotel.

The spring evening air was cool on her skin, raising goosebumps on her bare legs as they walked along the Seine. Lights on the river barges packed with tourists reflected off the dark water, the breeze carrying sounds of music and laughter to them. Harry slowed his steps as they approached a riverside marina with a barge still docked. Finely-dressed people queued up, chattering happily in anticipation.

"A river cruise?" Ginny asked, eagerly anticipating an evening of dinner and dancing with Harry under the stars.

"Mmm, a bit touristy, don't you think?" Harry quickened his pace, pulling her away from the enticing barges. They continued walking along the river, the Eiffel Tower rising in the distance in front of them. Ginny's eyes traced the enormous iron tower, blazing with lights. It seemed like it had always been a symbol of the city, but she had to remind herself that it was a relatively recent addition to the skyline.

As she walked along the pavement next to Harry in the beautiful city, she realized that she was utterly content and relaxed. For once there weren't any thoughts about work or kids or household chores or any of the other thousand thoughts that rampaged through her mind at any given moment. There was only her and Harry, walking along a river in what was thought of as the most romantic city in the world and she gave a quiet sigh.

"What was that for?" Harry asked, interrupting her reverie.

"Nothing, just …" she said looking up at him. The lights along the river caught the silver at his temples and her heart did a little stutter step. She shook her head and smiled. "I was just thinking that I would be perfectly happy to stand here on the pavement and eat a fresh baguette for dinner as long as I was with you."

She could tell that pleased him by the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and he squeezed her hand again, pulling her to him for a kiss. "I hope what I have planned for us is better than a baguette on the corner," he said, his voice barely louder than the music from the river barges. "Come on."

Walking faster now, Ginny let herself be tugged along in Harry's wake, the crowds growing thicker as they approached the Eiffel Tower. "Isn't this a bit touristy?" she asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugged, channeling his inner Frenchman by raising only one shoulder. "And the Louvre wasn't?"

"That was educational. Besides, we have to go back tonight and have that chat with the Mona Lisa. Did you already know she was a wizarding painting?"

"I didn't. I was as surprised as you were, love. I don't think any of da Vinci's other works are," Harry said, steering them through the thinning crowds towards one of the small buildings sheltered against the sturdy legs of the tower. "Aren't you supposed to be the one that knows all about art?"

"I wonder what she wants to talk about?"

Harry reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out two tickets. "We'll have to find out later." He handed the tickets to a well-dressed man standing underneath an awning that said simply, 'Le Jules Verne'.

"Ah, bienvenue au Jules Verne, madame et monsieur," he said as he opened the door. Inside was a smallish foyer, gold elevator doors shining in the low light. He pressed a button and the doors opened with a low _ding._ Stepping briefly inside with them, he pushed the button simply marked 'JV'. "Enjoy," he said, sending them off with another smile.

Ginny looked around the posh elevator, noticing that there was actually a little tufted bench to sit on. Grinning at Harry, she sat on it, primly crossing her legs at her ankles. One side of the elevator was a huge window and Ginny gasped as Paris came into view, the lights of the city getting steadily smaller as they ascended the tower. Taking her hand, Harry pulled her toward the window, putting an arm around her shoulders as they stared down at the city spread out before them.

"It's so beautiful," she breathed, making a foggy spot on the window. Impulsively, she sketched out a heart, making Harry chuckle as he kissed her temple. All too soon, the marvelous elevator ride was over and the doors slid open onto an opulent foyer with a smiling hostess at the other end. Ginny looked around while Harry chatted with the hostess, trying to convince herself that she really did belong here in this lavishly elegant place.

"All right?" Harry said, bringing her back down to Earth.

"Oh, yes, sorry. Woolgathering," she said, sure her cheeks were red with embarrassment at being caught gawking like a country bumpkin. "Do we have a table by a window?"

"I thought we'd have something to drink at the bar first." He took her hand and led her to the intimate looking bar, asking the bartender for, "Deux Moet et Flamel, s'il vous plait." Handing her a glass of fizzy champagne, Harry gently clinked his glass against hers.

"What are we drinking to?" Ginny asked, feeling almost like she was floating.

Harry pursed his lips as he thought. "To us," he said. "Being here with you … being anywhere with you still feels like a dream sometimes."

Ginny saw his cheeks turn pink and a swell of emotion threatened to upend her. "To us," she whispered, tapping the edge of her champagne glass against his. She took a sip, the bubbles dancing on her tongue as she held it in her mouth. Swallowing, the bubbly feeling seemed to expand in her stomach and she had a moment to think, _That's never happened before,_ when she was seized by the unmistakable sensation of Apparation.

A second later, the squeezing went away, the black nothingness replaced with a different bar. Heart beating wildly, Ginny looked around, barely registering the fact that no one was surprised that a woman had just appeared out of thin air. She looked at the glass of champagne in her hand and set it carefully on the bar as if she were afraid it would explode.

Harry appeared next to her with a small pop, flooding her with relief. "Harry, what happened? Where are we? Was the champagne cursed? Are we in danger?"

"It's all right, Gin. Come with me." Harry handed her glass back to her and she took it automatically, following him as he led her to a wall of windows.

Far down below, the lights of Paris glittered and Ginny realized that they were still on the Eiffel Tower, only much higher up. Mouth open, she turned to look at Harry who was looking at her with unabashed glee. "How?" He held up his champagne glass, wiggling it back and forth, making the champagne froth. "The champagne … Moet et Flamel!" she exclaimed, realization dawning.

"It's the only way to get here. We are in what is most likely the most exclusive, magical restaurant in all of Paris. Welcome to Le Sommet de la Tour." He looked so delighted with himself and his surprise that Ginny's initial burst of fear melted away and she kissed him soundly.

"How did you hear about this place?" she asked, gazing raptly down at the lights of the city.

"Bill, of course."

"Of course." She saw Harry take another sip of his champagne and followed suit, disappointed when she didn't get the same fizzy sensation in her stomach. They stood quietly next to each other, Ginny glad for the close heat of his body as it was a little chilly by the window.

They were in the middle of trying to pick out landmarks when a man in perfectly subdued dress robes approached them. "Monsieur Potter? Your table is ready." Hand in hand, they followed the man to an intimate table with a flickering candle and an excellent view of the Arc de Triomphe across the river.

Before too long, their champagne was replaced with an excellent merlot and Ginny sighed in contentment, watching as Harry studied the menu, reading it carefully as he always did. "What are you ordering for us?"

Harry looked at her over the top of the menu. "Us?"

"Yes. Isn't that what usually happens in these places? The sommelier already did his show and the waiter gave the specials. So now the man decides what we're going to eat," Ginny said, sipping more wine.

One corner of his mouth curled up in a smile and he nodded. "I see. And what would my dear wife like to eat tonight?"

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," she said, giving him an airy wave. Drawn by the lights, Ginny looked out of the window, eyes settling on the Arc. "Do you think they're all right?"

"Hmm?"

"The boys. Do you think they miss us?" Ginny looked back at Harry and he set the menu down, picking up his wineglass.

"James might miss us a bit. I dunno about Allie, though." He took one of her hands, spinning her wedding ring around on her finger. "I'm sure if something had happened your mum and dad would let us know."

"What if they don't want to bother us? What if … what if James had a thing?" Ginny fought a rising sense of anxiety. They'd agonized over whether to tell her parents about James being a Seer and the small quartz stone's role in preventing madness, but they ultimately decided that they ought to come clean in case anything did happen while the boys were under their care. To their relief, Molly and Arthur had seemed to take it in stride.

Harry's stag Patronus burst out of his wand and galloped out of the restaurant, drawing gasps from their fellow diners. "We'll see what they say, all right?"

Embarrassed to have caused a bit of a scene, Ginny nodded and drank some more wine, trying not to tap her toes as she waited for a response. Shaking his head, Harry went back to studying the menu, conferring with the hovering waiter on their order. The waiter had just left their table when she saw her father's weasel Patronus streak through the wall of the restaurant and land on their table, nose twitching expectantly. "That was fast. What does he say?"

Placing his hand on top of the Patronus's head, Harry's eyes got a faraway look as he received the message. "They're fine. James misses us and he hasn't had any incidents. Allie is all right and they're both sleeping well." The silver weasel dissipated, covering their table in pearly smoke and Harry frowned.

"What?" Ginny asked anxiously.

"Arthur said they'd had an odd-looking fox hanging about the garden all day," Harry said, narrowing his eyes in speculation.

_An odd-looking fox? _"Do you think it's Coyote?"

"Maybe." Harry shrugged, not seeming overly bothered that an ancient deity might be hanging about his in-laws back garden.

"Should we … say anything?"

"What are we going to say? 'Oh, yeah, that weird fox isn't a fox, but a coyote. Well, actually more like _the_ Coyote. Make sure you have a lot of honey on hand—He's got a bit of a sweet tooth.'" Harry gave her a mischievous grin and drank some more wine.

"I suppose you're right." Ginny set aside her worries, knowing that her children were safe with her parents and if Coyote was keeping an eye on things, that no harm would come to them. Leaning forward, she took Harry's hand in hers and squeezed. "Now, what did you order us for dinner?

* * *

Ginny savored the exquisite chocolate pot de crème, alternating her spoonfuls with the excellent coffee to keep the sweetness from overwhelming her tastebuds. Across from her, Harry tapped on his crème brûlée, breaking through the crust of sugar to the rich custard underneath.

"So," she said, carefully licking her spoon to ensure she got as much chocolate as possible, "how are we going to get into the Louvre? Isn't it crawling with security guards and cameras?"

"Well, they generally don't have any cameras or security in the loo," Harry said, grinning at her through a bite of crème brûlée.

"No wonder the entrance to the Ministry is in a toilet. Okay, so we Apparate into the loo. Men's or women's?"

"Women's, definitely."

"All right. Then what? Disillusionment?" Ginny scooped up the last of her dessert, the decadent silkiness on her tongue making her think of something else as she stared at Harry, the flickering candlelight making highlights and shadows on his face.

"To begin with. We'll have to go a bit slow, though. Might show up on film," Harry said, getting that look on his face that indicated he was thinking things through.

"What about the guards? The ones in the gallery today looked like they meant business."

"Mmm, they did, didn't they? Confundus ought to do for them." He looked at her over his coffee cup, mimicking her frown. "What?"

"Won't that get us in trouble? Confounding the guards like that?"

"Only if someone complains, and that's unlikely."

Ginny sipped her coffee, thinking over Harry's plans. They seemed simple enough on the surface, but long experience had taught her that things were rarely that easy. "What if they have … special guards?"

"Special?"

"Wizards. I mean, that place is a huge target, isn't it? We know they have them at the National Gallery at home. You even told me that it was a bit of a shit duty for when you'd really buggered something up." She grinned at him, setting down her coffee cup in the saucer. "I seem to recall you had your own turn there, didn't you?"

"Mm, I have no idea what you're talking about." Harry raised an eyebrow at her and continued eating his dessert. "Well, we'll have to cross that bridge when we cross it. Maybe they'll be too star-struck, yeah?"

"Well, I am very famous, it's true," Ginny said, brushing her long hair over her shoulders.

"You've made an impression here, that's for sure."

Ginny leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. "Oh?"

Harry slid his empty crème brûlée dish to the side and took a sip of his coffee, clearly making her wait. Finally, he cleared his throat and inclined his head toward a couple seated at a table closer to the middle of the dining room. Careful not to move her head, she swiveled her eyes, seeing a very distinguished-looking wizard and his well-groomed wife. They were both silver-haired and looked like a fine match.

"No," she mouthed to Harry.

"Yes," he whispered, leaning in closer to her. "All damn night." Despite her resolve not to, Ginny glanced at the man again, blushing when their eyes met. "I bet you he's very smooth. Probably comes up to women at the bar and says, _Crois-tu en l'amour au premier regard ou dois-je repasser une deuxième fois?_"

"Oh, Harry. That's terrible," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose. "Do I believe in love at first sight?"

"Or do I have to walk in again?" He took her hands in his and squeezed. "How about this?" Clearing his throat, he gave her a serious look, his green eyes holding hers. _"Savais-tu qu'on a cinquante procent de chances de coucher ensemble ce soir? Parce que moi je veux."_

Ginny tried and failed to keep a straight face as she tried to figure out what he'd said with her rudimentary French. "Hmm, something fifty percent sleep with you? Harry, where did you learn these awful pick-up lines?"

Grinning, Harry let go of her hands and finished his coffee. "You remember when I was 'on loan' to the French Ministry? Had a lot of downtime and got to be pretty friendly with some of the blokes. Learned some useful phrases."

"Hmph, not sure how useful that's turned out for you."

Harry picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. "It's turned out useful enough. Come on, we've got an appointment with a very distinguished Italian lady." He motioned for the check and the waiter nodded, disappearing behind a door. A moment later, a man in pristine chef's whites came out, giving them a bow when he reached their table, attracting the attention of the entire dining room.

"Ah, monsieur Potter, your bill … it is our pleasure," he said, giving them a wide smile. Ginny held back a gasp, mentally going over the prices in the menu and the wine they'd had with dinner.

Looking at Harry, she saw his jaw tighten, the only indication of his annoyance. "Bon. Merci," he said, giving the chef a nod and shaking his hand. "Dinner was excellent. My compliments."

"You honor us with your patronage. Madame," the chef said, taking Ginny's hand and giving her a courtly bow.

"Merci," she murmured, unsure of how exactly she should proceed. Her conundrum was resolved when Harry took her other hand, nodding his thanks to the obviously pleased chef once more. "I thought he was going to ask you to sign a plate," she said as they walked back towards the bar. "You remember that place in Hollywood we went to with Ben with all the pictures of Muggle celebrities?"

"Thankfully, this isn't that sort of place." Grasping her hand tightly, he looked at her. "Ready?"

"How do we get out? Another champagne?"

"That's just to get in." The breathless squeeze of Apparation seized her and a moment later she blinked in the bright fluorescent lights of one of the women's loos in the Louvre.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry slowly opened the door of the women's loo closest to the gallery that held the Mona Lisa and looked out into the hallway. Peering over his shoulder, Ginny swept the dimly-lit passage with her eyes, still shivering from the strange chill of the Disillusionment Charm.

Satisfied the coast was clear, he reached back, clumsily pawing at her outline until he found her hand and pulled her gently into the corridor. He pointed to the camera in the ceiling and put his finger against his lips. She could just barely see his Disillusioned outline as she nodded.

Moving at a very leisurely pace so as not to leave any trace on film, they headed toward the tiny painting behind the layers of bulletproof glass. "What do you think she's going to have to say?" Ginny asked as they strolled down the aisle. _What am_ I_ going to say?_

"Well, with your track record, who knows?"

"Do you think she'll ask for something? What could a wizard painting possibly want?"

"Maybe she wants us to get her out of here?" Harry said, the smile clear in his voice. Ginny tapped him on the shoulder in exasperation. "She's been out of the museum before. Maybe she wants to stretch her legs?"

"Harry, we are not stealing the Mona Lisa from the Louvre," Ginny admonished. "Maybe she just wants to have a nice chat. I don't imagine she gets many magical visitors—" Harry squeezed Ginny's hand, bringing her to a stop. A moment later, a guard appeared, eyes darting around as he took in everything but the two of them. She hardly dared to breathe, lungs protesting until the guard was through to the next gallery.

A few pulse-pounding moments later, they stood in front of the Mona Lisa once more, this time blissfully alone. Fixated on the painting, Ginny was only peripherally aware of Harry casting several privacy spells in rapid succession before releasing the Disillusionment Charm on her, sending a cascade of warmth down her body.

"Why didn't you do those spells earlier?" Ginny asked as he became fully visible once more. She took a small compact out of her purse and peered into the mirror, straightening her hair. _Wouldn't do to look like a crazy woman in front of … well I don't think she's royalty. Is she?_

"Too difficult to do on the move." Harry said, looking at the painting with a small frown.

"What's that look for?" Ginny asked, putting her compact away.

Harry grunted and shook his head. "Nothing, love," he said in that voice Ginny knew meant _something._ "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Ginny stood still, staring at the painting, mustering up her Gryffindor courage. The woman in the window appeared to be asleep. Looking up at Harry, Ginny reached out for a reassuring hand squeeze. _I can't believe I'm going to chat to the most famous painting in the world!_ Squaring her shoulders, she walked right up to the glass, knocking softly on it to attract the sleeping woman's attention.

Almost as if she had a sixth sense, the Mona Lisa woke and a thrill shot through Ginny's stomach as she met the painted woman's eyes. They were full of excitement and she broke into a wide smile, letting loose a stream of words. "Oh no, Harry! I can't hear her through the glass!"

Hands in his trouser pockets, Harry stepped up next to her, lips pursed. "D'you think an amplification spell would work?"

The Mona Lisa rolled her eyes and Ginny startled when she disappeared, reappearing in another painting, one with the fat man holding a horse that she'd barely noticed earlier. "Oh, I didn't know you could move to other paintings in here!" Ginny said, stepping toward the new painting. She almost expected the horse to move, but only the Mona Lisa was animated. She made a fine figure standing next to the horse, her somber black dress falling all the way to the ground.

Looking back at her original location, Ginny frowned at the fleeting double vision that swept over her; somehow the Mona Lisa was both _there_ and _not._ Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the five hundred-year-old woman.

"You can see me!" she said, her voice surprisingly high and girlish. Ginny wondered how long it had been since she'd spoken to anyone.

"Yes, we can! I'm so honored to, erm, meet you," she said, executing an odd hybrid of a bow and a curtsey. "What should I call you?"

That famous smile played on her lips and she gracefully inclined her head. "You may call me Lisa."

"All right." Ginny looked back over her shoulder at Harry and twitched her hand, silently asking him to join her. She felt oddly exposed standing there by herself and Harry's presence next to her made her feel more settled.

Still luminous, Lisa's texture now matched her temporary setting and Ginny filed that information away for later. _I really need to learn more about how wizarding paintings work,_ she thought, recalling the cheery Sir Cadogan.

"I'm Ginny Potter and this is my husband, Harry," Ginny said, trying not to sound completely breathless. "I … are you a witch? Or was your painter a wizard?"

"Leonardo was an extraordinary man, but he was not a wizard, no," she said. "While he was painting my portrait, I exerted my own influence to ensure that I would be properly immortalized." She gathered her shawl around her and squared her shoulders as she stood to her full height. Even then, she was barely taller than the horse's back.

"So Leonardo was a Muggle for sure, then," Ginny mused, tingling with the thrill of discovery. "He's still argued about today."

"He dearly loved the idea of magic and asked endless questions about how magic worked and demanded demonstrations. My Francesco was only too happy to oblige him." She looked down and shook her head fondly. "Those two were ever spending time together."

Ginny raised her eyebrows at this. _I wonder if she knew about Leonardo's … proclivities? _she thought. _Maybe there was more than magic curiosity between them. _"Well, I don't know if you know, but wizards aren't really allowed to tell Muggles about magic these days, unless it's very special circumstances," she said, thinking about Ben.

Lisa shook her head. "That is a shame that we have to hide our skills and talents. I have heard of this … statute."

Ginny shared a surprised look with Harry. "Oh? From whom?" she asked. _Have other wizards visited her through the years? I'm sure we're not the first magical people to have visited this place or seen her portrait._

Pale complexion flushing pink, Lisa looked down, that enigmatic smile on her face. "I have made a friend in this place. He is the one that told me about the change in our relationship with Muggles."

"There's another wizard painting in here? Can we meet him?" Ginny asked, full of excitement at the idea of another wizard portrait in the Louvre. "We didn't see another one when we were here earlier, but I know we didn't see everything, so I suppose we could have missed him."

Lisa looked sad and let out a sorrowful sigh. "I would like nothing better than to introduce you to my … friend, but I cannot."

"Why?" Harry asked, startling Ginny. She'd been so absorbed with talking to the actual Mona Lisa that she'd nearly forgotten he was standing right next to her. "Is he out on loan?"

"Would that it were that simple and I knew he would be returning. I'm afraid he has been stolen."

"What? Stolen?" Ginny searched her memory for any recent news of a theft from the Louvre. "That would have been huge news, but…" she shook her head, unable to come up with anything.

"He has been stolen and a forgery put in his place. No one knows of the theft but me. I will show you." Ginny took Harry's hand as he quickly Disillusioned them once more and released the privacy charms he'd set in the gallery before they followed the Mona Lisa as she moved from painting to painting.

Ginny watched, fascinated as she appeared in each one, matching the textures, brushstrokes and colors, all the while retaining her essential luminous qualities that made her a masterpiece. "I wonder what would happen if she wandered into a Picasso," she whispered to Harry, pleased to hear his chuckle.

They progressed through several galleries, nearly running into one security guard that Harry neatly Confounded before they arrived at a large painting of a splendidly-dressed man. Lisa stood next to him, a mournful look on her face. She reached out her hand to rest it on his puffy sleeve, using the corner of her shawl to wipe a tear from her eye.

Ginny barely noticed when Harry released the Disillusionment Charm and cast the privacy spells in this new gallery as she studied this new portrait. "Full-length portrait of a man holding a hat," she read from the plaque. The subject of the painting stared back at her, eyebrows raised expectantly, his shoulder-length hair in perfect waves as he stood confidently, one hand holding a large black hat.

"This is, or rather was, my friend Egbert Cornelis Janszoon," Lisa said, looking diminutive next to what was evidently a very tall man.

Hands in his trouser pockets, Harry stood in front of the painting, examining it closely, nose nearly brushing the canvas. "How long ago did you realize he was different?" he asked, taking a step back and cocking his head to one side.

Lisa twisted her hands in front of her as she thought. "I … am unsure," she said, shrugging. "It's difficult for me to tell the days sometimes."

"It's all right," Ginny said, wishing she could physically touch her to offer more concrete reassurance. "What do you reckon, Harry? Someone painted the forgery, probably right here in this museum and then they pulled a switcheroo?"

"That's the most likely scenario." Harry stepped over the short barrier and ran his hand along the edges of the ornate frame. Ginny tensed, certain she'd hear the blaring of alarms and the running footsteps of guards at any second, but nothing happened and he rejoined her on the right side of the barrier.

Ginny watched as he drew his wand and cast several spells in quick succession, frowning when nothing seemed to happen. "What was that for?"

"Magic detection, Revelio to see if there's anything underneath. Pretty standard," he said, sliding his wand back into his pocket.

"Anything?"

"Nothing. Whoever took Egbert Cornelis Janszoon, they weren't wizards."

"One of ours would never have done such a thing and separated us." Lisa's face was flooded with color, her usual serene mask replaced by a mighty frown. She had been speaking perfect English with only a hint of an Italian accent, but as she grew angrier, her accent became stronger. Stamping a delicately-slippered foot on the painted marble floor, she turned to her erstwhile friend, gesticulating wildly. "He was my only companion in this place! The only one I could talk to since my Francesco was taken away from me!"

Ginny nearly gasped at the revelation that the Mona Lisa was part of a diptych. _A lost da Vinci? This would turn the art world on its head!_ "Oh, Lisa, I'm so sorry!" Her heart went out to the woman in the painting, now covering her face with her shawl as her shoulders shook. _How lonely she must have been, surrounded by beautiful but dumb objects, stared at by people who couldn't talk back to her._ Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against Harry.

"All right?" he murmured, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah," she said, wiping at the corner of one eye, moved by Lisa's grief. They stood quietly, taking in the other paintings in the gallery as they gave her time to collect herself.

After several awkward minutes, Lisa cleared her throat and Ginny saw that she'd regained her composure, arms folded in front of her. "I'm sorry for your loss," Ginny said, bowing her head as if she were at a funeral. "Is there anything we can do?"

Lisa looked longingly at the haughty, frozen face and sighed. "I was lost and found once. I can only ask that you keep an eye out for him and return him to me."

An electric jolt shot through Ginny and Harry's arm tightened around her shoulders for a moment and she thought she heard him sigh. "Um, we'll try our best. Do you have any information or anything that might help us find him?"

Lisa grew thoughtful, nodding to herself. "Egbert did tell me that there was a student painting him. He was quite proud of it because that didn't happen very often to him."

"Did he describe the person painting him? Man? Woman? Old? Young?" Harry asked in rapid-fire Auror fashion. Lisa shook her head at each question, looking more and more despondent.

"No. Egbert was from a different time than me and didn't have a very close relationship with Muggles. He'd told me of the sorts of events that led to our world hiding itself and they were not good memories." She sighed, reaching out for his still figure and stopping herself. "He did not generally take much notice of the people that came to look at him."

"Well, if we see him somewhere, we'll definitely bring him back," Ginny said, taking out her phone to take a picture. The image on the screen showed only the man holding his hat and not Lisa standing next to him.

Lisa took another look at the still figure and sighed. She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, visibly shaking off her melancholy. "That is all I can ask as I am not free to act myself. If you bring him back to me, you will have my eternal gratitude."

"Well, then I know I will always have at least one friend in Paris," Ginny said, taking Harry's hand in hers and squeezing tight. "I think we're going to go. Thank you so much for chatting with us." Lisa nodded once and Harry took that as his cue, Apparating them both to their well-appointed room.

Kicking off her high heels, Ginny fell back onto the sofa, covering her eyes with her hands. "Harry," she said, feeling his weight settle next to hers, "do you even realize what a momentous discovery we've made tonight?"

"You mean the fact that we discovered that one of the most famous works of art in the whole world is a wizarding portrait, painted by one of the most famous and eccentric artists in history?" Harry said.

"We're hardly the first to know this. The French ministry must know. I wonder if they know about the theft?" Ginny uncovered her eyes and looked at him. His head rested against the back cushion of the sofa and his eyes were closed, hands clasped over his stomach. Her eyes traced his profile and she reached out, sweeping a curl of hair behind his ear. "Tired?"

"Been a long day." Harry turned his head and took her hand, pressing a kiss into her palm.

"Well, it's not like we had to fly here or anything." Harry's lips had crept up her palm and were now nibbling on the inside of her wrist, tickling her skin and giving her goosebumps.

"Mm, true." Harry was now making his way up her arm, teasing at the sensitive skin of her inner elbow. "You know how I feel about crowds."

Ginny closed her eyes, enjoying the sensations of his warm breath and soft lips on her skin as she relaxed back into the sofa cushions. "You were so brave today," she murmured. A shiver raced up her spine as he placed a delicate kiss on her collarbone. Opening her eyes, she looked down at Harry's dark hair, silver-threaded now, where he rested against her breast.

Leaning forward, she kissed him awkwardly on his forehead, heart fluttering as his eyes met hers. Before she was fully aware of what was happening, she was straddling Harry, the skirt of her dress pushed high up on her hips as they kissed. His lips were warm against hers and his hands were on her bottom, his fingers teasing at the edges of her knickers.

"Are you even wearing knickers?" he asked, trailing the tips of his fingers from the round fullness of her bum to the tops of her knees and back again.

Ginny hummed and leaned her head back as Harry made his way down her neck. "I might not have bothered tonight, but I didn't know where we were going, so I thought it best to be prepared."

Harry's chuckle was warm against her skin, giving her another flutter. "Prepared for what?"

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she brought his lips back up to hers. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, making him groan in appreciation. "I never know what's going to happen when I'm out with you," she said, chest heaving as she caught her breath. "What if you'd set up skydiving? How would that have looked with me flashing all of Paris my fanny?"

"Then I'd be skydiving backwards, wouldn't I?" He gave her a wolfish grin and she dissolved into laughter, visualizing falling through the air with her dress up around her waist, Harry underneath her, trying to catch a glimpse.

Setting aside that _extremely_ interesting thought, Ginny focused on snogging her husband on a sofa in the middle of Paris. He had pulled the zip on the back of her dress down, making short work of her strapless bra. Her hips seemed to have a mind of their own as she ground down on his crotch, Harry groaning against her lips.

Long habit made Ginny pause at the noise, pulling away from Harry as she listened for the sound of a waking child, flushing hot when she realized what she was doing. "All right?" Harry asked, rubbing the bare skin of her arms.

"Fine," she said, shaking her head. "Just being ridiculous."

"Me, too," he said, his voice soft in quiet room. "I keep listening for them, expecting James to come shooting around the corner at any second."

Ginny rested her forehead against Harry's, letting out a rueful chuckle. "What happened to us? Can't even snog on the sofa anymore."

"Yeah?" Harry's warm hands swept down her bare back, passing over her rucked-up dress to rest on her bottom. He squeezed gently, giving her that flutter again. "We seem to be doing all right."

Ginny sat up, resting her hands on his shoulders, allowing more of her weight to rest squarely on Harry's lap, the contact making her belly swoop. "I'll show you 'all right'," she said, grabbing his face in her hands, the stubble of his beard rough against her palms.

"Please do," he said as he grinned up at her, eyes glinting with mischief.

* * *

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Ginny asked, enjoying the early morning sunshine on their balcony. She picked up the sliced baguette, surprised that it was still warm from the oven, and spread butter on it.

"Hmm, dunno." Harry glanced up from the newspaper he was reading, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smile. "I was fine staying in bed."

Ginny blushed and looked down, focusing on spreading the strawberry jam on her baguette. Memories from last night came to her in flashes of images and sensations. Last night had been the first time in … _Well, ages that we could really just … get into it. _Ginny took a bite of the baguette, savoring the richness of the butter paired with the sweetness of the jam.

_Usually we just try to be fast and quiet … but there hasn't really even been a lot of that lately. _She winced inwardly as she recalled too many missed date nights and coming to bed with a stack of papers and her laptop, intent on catching up on work rather than being with her husband.

She shifted her eyes to look at the bed, just visible over Harry's shoulder. The sheets had come all untucked at the corners and were in an untidy pile in the middle of the bed, the comforter somewhere on the floor. "Sorry? I didn't quite hear what you said." Heat bloomed across her face as she realized Harry was talking to her.

Cocking his eyebrow at her, Harry sipped his tea. "I said I was thinking about what you said last night about the French ministry."

"Oh? What did I say?" Ginny asked, genuinely wondering why she would have mentioned the French ministry.

"You said you wondered if the ministry here already knew about the theft."

"Did I? Well, I'm very forward-thinking, aren't I?" Ginny said, embarrassed that sex had addled her so much that she didn't even remember what she'd said last night.

"Indeed." Harry folded his paper and picked up his own baguette, skipping the butter, which Ginny thought was a shame, choosing to spread only strawberry jam on it.

Ginny continued with her breakfast, watching as Harry finished with his baguette and poured himself another cup of tea before unfolding his newspaper again. "Well?" she finally asked, unable to stand the suspense.

"Hmm?" Harry looked up from his newspaper, mouth full of baguette.

"The French ministry?"

"Oh yes." Harry continued to chew, finishing his bite and dusting off his hands while Ginny exercised her patience. "You said last night that we've hardly got to be the only ones that know the Mona Lisa is a wizard portrait, so then it's likely that the other one is known, too. I thought I might drop in and see what I can find out."

"That doesn't sound much like vacation," Ginny said, crossing her arms. "What about sightseeing?"

"And shopping?" Harry grinned and refolded the paper, standing up and stretching his arms high over his head. His poorly-tied hotel robe gaped open, giving Ginny a good look at the stag on his hip. "Come on," he said, holding his hand out to her. "Let's use up all of the hot water."

* * *

Ginny wandered through the aisles of the musty antique shop, wishing that Ben were with her. She picked up a delicate teapot, rubbing her index finger over the gilding before setting it back down again. _Maybe I'll see if I can find another little trinket for Harry,_ she thought, heading up towards the front of the shop and the cases of jewelry. _Hopefully this one won't have a ghost attached!_

She was leaning over the glass case trying to get a better look at a jeweled butterfly pin when she felt a hand on her back. _"On devrait t'arrêter pour excès de beauté sur la voie publique," _Harry whispered, making the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

Straightening up, she turned to look at him, mouth quirking up in a half-smile as she tried to figure out what he'd said. "Something something public beauty something?"

Harry grinned at her, rocking back and forth on his feet with his hands in his jeans pockets. "You should be arrested for excessive beauty in public," he said, obviously proud of himself.

"I see. What else did you learn in there?" she asked, nodding her head at the deserted-looking building across the alley from the shop. The broken windows and leasing signage were simply show for Muggles; behind the run-down brick facade hummed the bureaucracy of Magical France. "Did you find Daniel?"

"I did."

"And?"

"And we're having lunch in about twenty minutes." Harry turned his attention to the case she'd been looking in. "See anything interesting?"

"That butterfly had caught my eye. What do you think?"

Harry gave it a look and then winked at her. "Are you sure it doesn't have a ghost that comes with it? You know what happened the last time you got something at an antique shop."

"Goodness." Ginny whacked him on the shoulder and shook her head. "I want it. Buy it for me. You're better at French than I am," she said, tapping the glass above the butterfly pin.

Daniel turned out to be a very engaging Auror about Harry's age with dark brown hair and a mobile, expressive face perfectly suited to telling outrageous stories. "So, let me get this straight. You and Harry are stuck on the side of a building and there's a full squadron of gendarmes on the street below?" Ginny asked, sides aching from laughter.

"Oui!" Daniel grinned at her, giving her a wide-eyed look, his startlingly blue eyes nearly bugging out. "I turned to Harry and said, _merde_, how are we going to get out of this one? The gendarmes, they are no Dark Lord, but they do present a challenge!"

Harry snorted as he took a sip of his wine. "Not much of one."

"So what did you do? They had their spotlights on you, didn't they? And guns?"

"They thought we were a couple of … cat burglars, no?" Daniel said, his expression clearly indicating the great insult to his person that assumption had caused. "Harry, though, he managed to create une distraction and we got away."

"How, though? You both had your hands in the air and couldn't get to your wands." Ginny grinned, envisioning both Harry and this Daniel with their backs up against a brick wall, faces shining in the glare of the spotlights, hands held up in surrender.

"I cast some flash bangs behind them, made them look," Harry said, leaning back in his seat. He gave them both a wide smile and put his hands behind his head.

"But how? Wandless?"

Harry shrugged and sat up straight. "I keep telling you, love. You just have to _really_ want it and I _really_ wanted to be out of there with my arse intact."

Ginny blushed, thinking of all the times he'd Vanished some part of her clothing without laying a hand on her or his wand and cast a quick glance at Daniel, blushing even harder at his knowing look. "Well, I'm very glad you made it out with your arse intact, then," she said, clearing her throat. "Speaking of arse, Harry has been teaching me some French since we've been here. Do I have you to thank for his language skills?"

Daniel shrugged and finished his wine, grinning at Harry. "Well, he was a very curious student and who am I to deny him the knowledge he desired?"

"You _wanted_ to learn those terrible pick up lines?" Ginny asked, turning to Harry. She was pleased to see his cheeks turn pink as she put him on the spot.

"So, Daniel, you said you had some information for us?" he said, changing the subject.

"Yes, I have." He leaned in closer, inviting them to lean in as well. His eyes darted from side to side and Ginny assumed he was checking for anyone taking an undue interest in their conversation. "We have long been aware of the Mona Lisa being a magical portrait and we have our own security measures in place to augment the Muggles'."

"Makes sense," Harry murmured. "I imagine you weren't best pleased when she went missing in 1911."

Daniel's face hardened. "No, after that, we decided we couldn't entirely rely on the Muggles and it looks like we needed another lesson."

_So they didn't know about the man with the hat, either. Interesting,_ Ginny thought as Daniel continued.

"I spoke with my commander and he has someone at the Louvre right now, confirming the … ah … situation."

"What about tracing it?" Harry asked, clearly in Auror mode. "I didn't find any evidence of magic, but Lisa wasn't able to tell us how long ago the theft occurred. It may have been a thoroughly Muggle operation."

Ginny listened as Harry and Daniel batted questions and answers back and forth, discussing the merits of Muggle security systems and tapes versus magical tracking and traps, thinking of how bereft and lonely Lisa must be in that place full of beautiful, silent things.

She was still ruminating on what she would do if she were a magical portrait trapped in a Muggle museum when a silvery horned owl landed right in the middle of their table, nearly upsetting the wine glasses. "Ah, Thomas," Daniel said, touching it on the wickedly sharp beak, eyes going blank as he listened to the message.

"Well?" Harry asked as the owl exploded into silvery mist.

"They found no evidence of magical tampering."

"The tapes?"

Daniel held up his hand and nodded. "Oui. The tapes show a man painting the subject—our suspected forger—around three weeks ago."

"But not the switch?" Harry asked, tapping the side of his nose in thought.

"No. There is a curious, unexplained gap in the tape, however."

"Inside job?"

Daniel shrugged and held up his finger for the bill. "Perhaps," he said, shaking his head when Harry reached for his wallet. "Non, this was a consultation, was it not? The Ministry will get this one."

They stood up from the table and the two men shook hands. Ginny extended hers, surprised when Daniel bowed over it instead of shaking it. "It was an honor to meet you," he said when he straightened back up. "I have to apologize for teaching your husband such deplorable language!"

Ginny laughed at the expression on his face, completely charmed by the affable Frenchman. "It's no worse than the language he normally uses! Please let us know if you hear anything? Lisa is so very lonely without him."

"Of course." Daniel turned to Harry and gave him a snappy salute before striding off, quickly losing himself in the crowd.

Ginny took Harry's hand and squeezed. "Well, another free meal," she said, grinning up at him. "Who else do you know in this city?"

"Hmmph," Harry grunted, squeezing her hand back. "What do you want to do with the rest of the day, love?"

"Well, since it seems we can't reunite a couple of lovers, how about we go look at some old piles of rock? I've always wanted to see Notre Dame."

"A church? I don't think they have any nude statues for you to sketch there," Harry said as they headed away from the cafe.

Ginny bumped Harry's hip with hers, her heart thumping with the sheer joy of being with him in this enchanting city. She shivered at the memory of his face from last night, his features contorted in pleasure as he thrust into her. "I'm sure I'll find _something_ interesting to look at."


	3. Chapter 3

_Muggles or not, I really should just Apparate up here next time,_ Ginny thought as she caught her breath at the top of the stairs. _300 is sort of a lot._ She cast her eyes to the side at the young man that had come up with her. He looked like he'd already recovered and was eagerly taking in the sights. _Youth._

Taking her sketchpad out of her bag, she approached the railing, letting out a gasp at the city spread before her. The day was sunny and bright and she took a moment, closing her eyes and taking several deep breaths before opening them again. The young man had moved away to the other end of the balcony, leaving her relatively alone.

She looked around the balcony, catching sight of a crumbling stone statue on the railing. "You're an odd-looking fellow." She began to sketch, starting with the creature's horns and then moving on to the monkey-like face.

"Make sure you get my good side," said the statue, its voice sounding deep and rumbly, like it was coming out of a cement mixer.

"Oh my goodness! Hello!" Ginny said, only mildly startled to be chatting with an ancient statue on top of one of the most famous cathedrals in the world. _What else is going to happen on this trip?_

"Bonjour, mademoiselle." The statue executed an awkward bow, unable to remove his hands from where his chin was resting on them. His stone face was transformed by his smile and Ginny rushed to capture it before it changed again.

"Do you have a name? You can call me Ginny."

"Ah, no one has asked my name in a very long time. You can call me Guillaume."

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Guillaume." Ginny continued to draw, working to capture the statue's posture as he gazed out over the city, elbows resting on the railing. "Do you get to chat very often?"

"No. Ones such as you are rare, so it is often very lonely."

A pang of sympathy shot through her and she paused for a moment. "I suppose not too many of our sort come to churches."

Guillaume shrugged, the motion making his stone wings flex. "Oh, witches and wizards come, but not all of them are like you."

Ginny frowned and continued to draw, now capturing his rough stony texture. Her lessons with Coyote came to mind and she focused inward, trying to determine if she was putting out anything … excessive. She felt the now-familiar sensation of her own fizzy, bubbling magic contained within her own being. _I guess there's a lot of magic floating around in this city. It _is_ pretty old. That's got to be it._

The young man that had journeyed up the stairs with her stepped over, looking at her drawing over her shoulder and then at the statue. He gave her a thumbs up, the seemingly international symbol for "Well done, you," and turned away, heading down the stairs.

For all of his lamentations that he hadn't had anyone to talk to in a long time, the statue remained silent as she finished her sketch, putting Guillaume against a setting sun. "Now what do you think about that?" Ginny said, showing the statue her drawing.

Guillaume grinned and nodded. "Yes, that is an excellent likeness. Merci beaucoup, ma chérie."

The wind riffled her papers and she closed the cover of the sketchbook. It was a nice one Harry had gotten her for Christmas with a leather cover and a secure closure, her name stamped in gold on the front. "It was very nice to meet you, Guillaume," she said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Do you, erm, need anything before I go?"

"You are very kind, but non. I have my place here and this whole city before me. Promise me that you will return one day for another chat," he said, surprising her with a wink.

"I definitely will." She executed a small bow. "Until we meet again!" She turned back to the stairs and paused. _Ugh, going down is just as bad as coming up,_ she thought. _I think I saw a secluded spot nearby. _Gathering her will, she silently Apparated down from the tower.

Back down on the ground, she took a moment to get reoriented and then went off in search of Harry, finding him on a stone bench in the sunny plaza. His sunglasses were on top of his head and his eyes were closed, looking very relaxed for once. Ginny paused and reopened her sketchbook, using bold, quick strokes to capture him.

As she sketched, a streak of silver fell from the sky, coalescing into her father's Patronus. The weasel sat up on its haunches and Harry opened his eyes, blinking in surprise at the spectral animal in front of him. Joining him on the bench, Ginny kissed his cheek. "What's Dad got to say?"

Harry leaned forward and touched the weasel on the tip of its nose, eyes going blank as he listened to the message. The weasel disappeared in a poof of pearly smoke and Harry straightened up. "Arthur says that the boys are doing well. Molly took them to Diagon Alley today for an outing."

"You mean a shopping spree," Ginny snorted. "We're going to have so many things to undo."

"They met up with Angelina and little Freddie for a playdate and then Percy's girls are having a sleepover tomorrow." Harry paused and shook his head. "That _odd dog_ has been around again. Your mum's been leaving food out for him."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'll make sure to tell Coyote He'd better watch it or Mum's going to make Him fat." She paused for a moment, riffling the edges of her sketchbook. "Anything … else?"

"He didn't say. You want to ask?"

"No," she said after a moment. "If there has been an incident, then I'm just going to worry. I have my whole life to worry about him."

"We can have a week to ourselves, yeah?" Harry said, kissing her temple as he put his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. He nodded at the sketchbook in her hands. "Did you find something pretty to look at?"

"Well, not necessarily pretty, but interesting." She opened the book and showed him the sketch of Guillaume. "We had a nice chat."

"Yeah? I wouldn't have expected that."

"Me, either. He said something a bit odd to me." She frowned, thinking about the statue's words. "He said that not all witches and wizards are like me. D'you think he meant …" Trailing off, she waved her free hand in the air in a vague approximation of casting a spell.

Harry shrugged and hugged her tighter. "I suppose. All right?"

"Yeah. I just thought I had all of that under control, you know." She sighed and sat up straight. "I want to go back inside. There's more to look at." Standing up, she grabbed Harry's hands and pulled him up from the bench, groaning loudly at the effort.

"Sorry, love," Harry said, throwing his arm around her shoulders as they walked towards the cathedral. "Guess I'll have to start laying off the croissants!"

* * *

Ginny looked up from her book, the bright sunlight making her squint despite her sunglasses. "There goes another one," she murmured, nudging Harry next to her.

"Hmm?" he grunted, sounding groggy.

"Another one's just taken off her top. I'm starting to feel like an endangered species over here."

Harry chuckled and stretched his arms high over his head before sitting up. "Are you going to bend to the pressure and join them?"

"I think I'm going to buck the trend and keep mine on," Ginny said, looking down at her navy blue polka-dotted bikini top, still firmly in place. "Besides, I'd just get more freckles."

"I wouldn't mind." Harry grinned at her, raising his eyebrows behind his sunglasses. He leaned in and kissed her, making her wish that they were somewhere a bit more private than this beach in the south of France. "Good vacation?"

"Yes. We'll have to thank Juanita when we get back. If she hadn't told you about the extra week off, you'd probably have gone back to work and wondered where everyone was." Ginny settled back in her beach chair and raised her book once more, thinking about their time in France. It had been wonderful, but part of her felt a little bit guilty at enjoying her time with Harry without the boys.

_Will they even remember us when we get back? It's only been a week and a half, but they change so much so fast, _she thought, not really seeing the book in front of her. _James will be starting at that preschool, Allie's getting so independent and doesn't really even need me anymore …_

She glanced over at Harry next to her. He was sitting on the blanket, arms wrapped around his knees as he stared out at the water. The breeze ruffled his dark hair, reminding her of James and Allie when they had family days at the beach back home.

Book forgotten, Ginny stared at the waves crashing on the beach, absorbed in her own thoughts. _My boys._ _Even counting the cat, I'm the only girl in the whole house. Good thing that's something I'm used to. _As she continued her musings, a little girl ran across her field of vision followed by a tall man. As she watched, the man bent over and scooped her up, planting lavish kisses all over her cheeks as she shrieked and giggled.

Nudging Harry, she pointed at the pair with her chin. The man had set the girl back down on the beach and took her hand as they walked back to the woman Ginny presumed was the girl's mother. She grinned at the sight of the toddler's awkward steps on the sand, made more awkward by the poofy swim diaper. Breaking away from her father, she ran to her mother, their cornsilk blonde hair a perfect match.

"Getting ideas?" Harry murmured, taking one of her hands in his.

"Mmm, maybe," Ginny said, turning to look at him. "What's it to you?"

Sliding his sunglasses up on top of his head, Harry squinted at her in the bright sunlight. "I thought you were glad to be on the tail end of nappies."

"This is true. Allie's almost potty trained."

"And you can finally have the occasional five minutes to yourself." Harry ran his thumb over the back of her hand, making the hairs on her arm tingle and stand up straight.

Ginny squeezed Harry's hand and smiled. "And you've got these back to play with," she said, giving her shoulders a little shimmy to make her breasts jiggle.

"Mm, yes. I did miss them." He leaned over, putting his mouth close to her cleavage. "Hello, ladies," he said, his breath hot against her skin.

Laughing, Ginny pushed him away and hit him on the shoulder with her book. "Harry! We're on a public beach!" she scolded.

"So? Most of these people are half-naked."

"Yes, but they're French."

"And?"

"And we're not," she said, primly adjusting her bikini top while Harry gave her and exaggerated pout.

"I suppose I'll have to wait until I've got you alone, yeah?" he said, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

"Who says I'd consent to being alone with you, Potter?" Ginny turned to face him, surprising him with a kiss. She meant it to be a quick thing but Harry had other ideas and deepened the kiss, raising his hand to her bare shoulder to press her into her beach chair as he went up on his knees. The crashing waves and laughing children faded, becoming an indistinct roar in her ears as her attention shifted to the heat spreading out from her belly.

She was just starting to give serious consideration to breaking the Statute of Secrecy and Apparating back to their hotel room when sand flew into her face. "Oh!" she exclaimed, breaking away from Harry, wiping the gritty stuff off of her face. A football had landed right next to her chair and she looked up to see a boy of about twelve grinning at them.

"Excusez-moi," he called, clearly unrepentant as Harry growled and threw the ball back at him, aiming for the boy's head. Undeterred, the boy caught it neatly and gave them a wave as he laughed and headed off to join his friends.

"Little shit," Harry muttered, wiping sand off of the side of his face. Ginny let her head fall back and groaned. "All right?"

Raising her head, she looked at him and smiled. "Girls can get blue balls, too, you know."

"Oh, God. So blue right now," Harry said, grinning back at her. "I'm going to go in. Come with?" He stood and held his hand out to her and she took it, her stomach swooping as Harry practically yanked her to her feet and hugged her tight. As they passed the family on the way to the water, Ginny saw Harry glance at them and her heart gave a little stutter.

They'd just reached the edge, the warm water barely curling over their toes when she paused, shading her eyes. "What's that bird on about?" she asked, pointing at a seagull flying overhead.

"Hm, dunno," Harry said, looking up. After a moment, he frowned. The bird wasn't doing what the other seagulls were doing, but rather circling directly over the two of them, gradually moving lower and lower. Ginny could see that it looked like it was holding something in its claws.

"Um, should we …?" Ginny asked as the gull let out a loud screech and sailed off toward an outcropping of rocks.

"Looks like we'd better." Harry squeezed her hand and they followed the gull, finding it in a small nook created by the group of rocks. It held a red envelope in its beak and Harry reached out and took it, wary of a peck.

Beak freed, the bird let out another loud screech and flapped away, nearly whacking Ginny in her head as it took off. "Bloody bird. Why can't they use owls here like everyone else?" she grumped as Harry opened the envelope. "What is it?"

He didn't answer right away as he read the card over before handing it to her with a grunt. The paper was very fine and heavyweight with raised, embossed lettering. "An auction?" she asked. "Oh, by invitation only. You think Lisa's friend will be there?"

"Quite possible, I suppose. Here's the tickets." Harry showed her two red tickets, also with raised, ornate lettering. "Tomorrow night."

"Back to Paris, then?" Ginny tucked the card back into the envelope along with the tickets.

"Mm, do you think you'll be able to manage?" Harry asked, settling his hands on her hips.

Ginny put her arms around his neck, raising herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him. The seclusion of the nook in the rock emboldened her and she opened her mouth to him, letting out a little groan as their tongues met. The sun on her shoulders combined with the sound of the crashing waves and the sensation of Harry's hands on her skin gave her a feeling like she was on a high mountaintop in the thinnest air possible and she broke away, gasping for breath.

Harry buried his face in the crook of her neck, his lips gentle on the sensitive skin. "Still want to go into the water?" she asked, sliding her hand down his side and around to his bum, giving him a good squeeze.

"You know, if we went deep enough …" Harry's breath was warm against her neck and her skin prickled.

"I think I'd float too high," she murmured, slipping her hand under the waistband of his trunks.

Harry pulled back and grinned down at her. "Well, are you a witch or not?"

* * *

"So, I take it you received my note?" Daniel asked as he dragged over a chair and made himself comfortable at their secluded table. Taking in their empty dinner plates, he raised a finger, signaling the waiter with a quiet "S'il vous plait." He ordered a new bottle of wine for the three of them and a salad for himself, looking quite at home.

Ginny looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow, getting a shrug in return. "Yes, we received your note this afternoon," he said, finishing his glass of wine as they waited for the new bottle to arrive.

"Very good," Daniel said, beaming at Harry. He turned that smile to Ginny and gestured to the quiet street outside of the window. "How do you like Beaumont Sur Mer?"

"It's wonderful. We're on the West Coast at home, but the summers in San Francisco are so cold and gloomy. Everything here is so bright and warm, even now," Ginny said, charmed once more by the French Auror's easy affability.

"I'm glad you like it. I grew up not too far from here." He leaned forward as if he were about to divulge a secret. "Do you know I had never seen snow until I went to Beauxbatons!"

"Oh, I'll bet you saw more than enough of it in those mountains!"

"My first winter there, I wrote to my maman, begging her to send me long underwear!" he said, rolling his eyes at his younger self. Just then, the waiter brought the new bottle of wine pouring them each a fresh glass. "A toast," he said, raising his glass.

"What are we toasting to?" Harry asked as they clinked their glasses together.

"Successful endeavors!"

Ginny had a brief sensation of pressure against her ears and realized that either Harry or Daniel had put some sort of privacy charm on their table. "Speaking of successful endeavors," Harry said, pulling the red envelope out of his jacket pocket and setting it on the table.

Daniel opened the envelope and pulled out the tickets, holding them up to the light to see the watermark. "Oui. You will help us out in this?"

"I'm going to need some more information." Harry leveled a look at Daniel, clearly waiting for a response. Ginny looked between the two of them, feeling as if she were at a tennis match.

"I imagined you would." Daniel shrugged, looking completely relaxed.

"You're certain our target will be at this … auction or whatever?" Harry asked as Daniel's salad arrived.

"As certain as we can be. We made several inquiries and we feel like our information is reliable."

Harry grunted and drank some more wine. "Why aren't one of yours going in there?" Daniel shrugged again and started eating his salad. "So there'll be someone there, we just won't know who they are."

"Think of it as a safety precaution."

"For us or the Muggles?" Ginny looked back to Daniel and he shrugged again, so she turned her head back to Harry, tennis match in full force. "Fair, I suppose. What about the budget?"

"Budget?" Ginny asked, turning back to Daniel.

"A Dutch painting from the 17th century. It's bound to go for a pretty penny, yeah? Can't expect me to foot the whole bill," Harry said. He finished his wine and poured a little more. Ginny realized she'd been so absorbed in the back and forth between Harry and Daniel that she'd quite forgotten about her own wine.

"There have been discussions and there is approval for a certain amount."

"How certain of an amount?"

Daniel pursed his lips as he chewed. "The ministry are prepared for as much as five hundred thousand."

"Euro, not Galleons, right?" Ginny asked, feeling the need for clarification. Still finding it easier to think of money in Galleons, Sickles and Knuts, she tried to do the conversion in her head, but gave up. _I'll have to ask Harry later._

"Oui."

Harry narrowed his eyes as he considered. "Will that be enough?"

"It's not a well-known piece and the subject isn't particularly remarkable. The ministry feel that this will be more than enough." Daniel finished his salad and pushed the plate away. "Dessert?"

"Oh, are the French ministry buying?" Ginny asked, picking up the dessert menu.

"But of course." Daniel grinned at her and she couldn't help but smile back.

* * *

"You know, you didn't have to order two of everything," Harry said later that night, his voice a rumble in Ginny's ear.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him, admiring the way the moonlight coming in through the window highlighted the silver strands in his dark hair. "Of course I did. Daniel was paying," she said, sounding as if it were the most obvious conclusion in the world.

"Besides, you never know when you'll want a little snack." She slid out of bed, very aware of Harry's gaze as she walked across the room in the nude, heading toward her cache of goodies. She picked a container at random, knowing they'd all be delicious.

Back in bed, she conjured up two forks and opened the container. "What is it?" Harry asked, peering into the container.

"Um, I think clafoutis?" Ginny took a bite, savoring the rich taste of the cherries and custard. Harry reached out, scooping up a crumb that had fallen from her fork and onto her breast, staring at her as he sucked on his finger.

"Delicious," he said, giving her what she knew he thought of as his sexy smile. She didn't have the heart to tell him that it wasn't and it made him look a bit demented.

"You're terrible. Here, eat some." They shared the dessert in the quiet room, both perfectly content to be eating a decadent French pastry while completely starkers. "So, we're going to an auction tomorrow? In a catacomb?"

"Apparently so," Harry said, licking his fork clean.

"Why in a catacomb of all places?"

"Hmm, I guess to keep things out of sight?" Harry tapped the fork against his finger, frowning in thought. "Can't exactly rent the local hall for your illegal stolen art auction, can you?"

"I suppose not." Ginny finished the last bite of the clafoutis, Vanishing the container and the conjured forks before getting back underneath the covers and snuggling down next to Harry. She closed her eyes, listening to the thump of his heart where her head rested against his chest. "What are you thinking about?" she asked after several quiet moments.

"Nothing."

"Liar. You must be thinking of something."

"What about you? What are you thinking of?" Harry asked, pulling her closer to him.

Ginny placed several small kisses on his chest. "Shopping."

"For what? What could there possibly be left in France for you to buy?"

"I need a new outfit for that thing. Daniel said it's fancy dress."

Harry shifted underneath her, gently rolling her onto her back until he was the one with his head on her chest. "Can't you wear the one you wore to the Eiffel Tower?" he asked, tracing circles around her bellybutton with the tip of his finger.

"I can't be seen in Paris in the same dress twice. It'll cause a scandal." Ginny buried her fingers in his soft hair, silently hoping for his hand to move just a little bit further down.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Ginny closed her eyes as Harry's hand moved down over her hip and swept along her thigh to her knee, gently tickling the inside.

"Now what about you? What has the great Harry James Potter got on his mind?" She scratched her fingernails along his scalp, smiling to herself when he squeezed her knee in response.

"Hmm," he hummed, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her. He had a bit of a serious air and she had a flutter in her stomach, reminding herself that she was still full of dessert. "Do you feel like we're, erm, done?"

"Done?" she echoed, momentarily thrown off by his question. "Done with what? Done how? Harry, are you all right? Is something wrong?"

Cheeks reddening, Harry shook his head. "Oh, God, I knew I'd cock this up." He took a deep breath and sat up, taking her hand in his. "That family on the beach today …"

"Oh?" Ginny's heart picked up speed in her chest and she flashed back to the little girl trying to climb her father like a tree.

"I've been thinking. The boys are getting bigger and …" he shrugged, looking down at her hand where his thumb traced a pattern on the back. "I dunno, I guess I kind of miss them being small, I guess." He looked back at her, giving her his truly sexy smile that he was completely unaware of. "What do you think?"

Ginny sat up, pushing her hair behind her ears as she thought about Harry's question. _Am I done?_ She thought back to when James was so small that he just melted into the crook of her arm. How she would spend hours watching Allie sleep, just waiting for him to smile as he dreamed. The heady scent of fresh, clean baby, feeding from her breast …

_But then there are the other things,_ she thought. Feeling like she didn't control or even belong in her own body. Strangers everywhere seeming to have an opinion on what she should and shouldn't be doing. Never knowing how she would react to some of the most mundane things.

Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to imagine walking on the beach, the cold water splashing up their legs as James and Allie ran ahead, waving driftwood sticks like they were the wands they were destined to carry. _Wands … we do have three ... Selkie, Water Horse and Thunderbird. None of them work for me or Harry. Maybe …_

She looked at Harry took his hand in hers, squeezing tight. He raised an eyebrow at her and her heart melted as she pulled him towards her for a kiss. "Can I think about it?" she whispered, her lips against his stubbled cheek.

Blinking several times, Harry looked at her, seeming quite taken aback. "Of course. You know I'm not trying to pressure you, right?" he asked, the earnestness in his voice making her smile.

"I know, love. I am a bit surprised, though. Usually women are the ones that are accused of having baby fever." She lay back down, bringing him down with her to rest his head on her chest again. "What made you think about it?"

"That family on the beach today," Harry sighed, his breath warm against her skin. "I miss the boys, I guess."

"I do, too. I thought it would be nice to get away for a few days, but I keep wanting to message Mum and Dad for updates every five minutes. Are they sleeping? Eating? Has James had any visions?" Ginny shook her head at her own ridiculousness.

"I guess this means we're really parents, doesn't it?" Harry yawned and shifted, kissing her soundly on the lips. "Let's get some sleep, yeah? We have a painting to rescue tomorrow."

"I hope we can pull it off. Lisa will be so happy to have him back." Ginny thought of the elegant, melancholy woman in the museum, anticipating the moment when they'd be able to restore what she was fairly sure was her lover.

Drifting off to sleep, Ginny smiled, dreaming of another little baby, nestled in the crook of her arm.


	4. Chapter 4

Trying not to stare, Ginny followed Harry down the narrow, sparsely lit passageway, reminding herself that she was both a Healer and a doctor and a few bones were nothing to be afraid of. _It's actually quite beautiful,_ she thought as her eyes traced a chevron pattern along the wall. The chevrons appeared to be made of thigh bones and the points were topped by grinning skulls. Age had turned the bones to a mellow ivory color and she gave up on trying to work out how many people had contributed to this mode of decoration.

"All right?" Harry murmured, squeezing her hand.

"Yes, fine," she whispered, feeling that it was only right to speak quietly in this place. "It's a bit creepy, but beautiful. Have you been down here before?"

"Not to this part, but yeah. Me and Ron had come down to the catacombs once to collect some … erm, remains."

Intrigued, Ginny was about to ask for further information when they turned a corner and the light became brighter. Harry slowed to a stop and turned to face her. "Okay. What's your name?"

"Jenny Partridge."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a schoolteacher on holiday."

"How do you know me?"

"We met in a bar two nights ago."

"What's my name?"

"Henry Pitchford."

"What do I do?"

Ginny pursed her lips. "I don't rightly know. You don't talk about yourself too much, but I know you're loaded and I'm just along for the ride."

Harry grinned and kissed her forehead. "I'm an investment banker."

"And you have an amazing yacht anchored in St Tropez you're taking me to once our business here is concluded."

"Do I?" he said, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smile. "That sounds amazing, doesn't it? A sailboat, blue water …" he nuzzled her neck, his warm breath making her shiver.

"Is there a butler on board?" she whispered, well aware of Harry gently maneuvering her backwards against the bone-encrusted wall.

"Will a house-elf do instead?" Ginny's bare back met the old bones and Harry dove down to kiss her. In an effort to change his look a little, he hadn't shaved for the last two days and the scratchiness of the manicured stubble on his face added to the excitement of the moment.

Ginny lost herself in the sensations of Harry's kisses and his hands on her bare shoulders, squeaking in protest when he pulled away. He put his finger against his lips in a shushing gesture and she became aware of the sounds of footsteps echoing down the passage. Trying to calm her breathing and not look like she'd just been snogging in a bone-decorated hallway, she busied herself checking her handbag, touching her wand for reassurance.

A moment later, a large, silver-haired man passed by, a very elegantly-dressed woman at his elbow. The man exchanged nods with Harry while the woman coolly looked Ginny up and down, clearly finding her subpar. Harry let the couple turn the corner before taking her hand and following.

As they rounded the corner, they came to a sort of vestibule guarded by a man with slicked-back hair. He stood behind a table arrayed with several objects that the silver-haired man and his companion were picking through, laughing and giggling.

"What are they—" Ginny started, interrupted when the woman turned to the side, the upper half of her face covered by a rabbit mask. The man had chosen a fox and he growled playfully at her, making her giggle and slap at his arm. Once they were masked, the man behind the table nodded and opened the door, gesturing for them to enter.

Ginny caught the sounds of music and conversation, a fluttering starting up in her stomach. Squeezing Harry's hand, they approached the table, the doorman smiling at them pleasantly. "Monsieur? Vos billets, s'il vous plait."

"Ah, oui," Harry said, pulling the two red tickets out of his inner jacket pocket and giving them to the man. As Ginny watched, he examined each one carefully, tilting them both in the light before nodding and tucking the tickets into a small box.

"Choose a mask, any one you like," he said in accented English, motioning to the array of masks on the table.

Ginny looked down and picked up a badger mask, impressed with the quality. _This isn't any flimsy Halloween mask,_ she thought, looking it over. She stroked the forehead of it with her fingertips, raising her eyebrows at the silky feeling of real fur. "I don't quite think a badger suits me, does it?" she murmured, nudging Harry's side.

"How about this one?" Harry held up a tiger mask, its muzzle contorted into a snarl.

"Hm, I think I rather like this one." She picked up a beautifully-feathered bird mask with a gently curving beak. She held it up next to her face. "What do you think?"

Harry took the mask and helped her get it on, adjusting it until it fit perfectly. Though the eyeholes, Ginny saw him take a step back and cock his head to the side. "That beak's going to make it hard to kiss you."

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," she said, sure her cheeks were pink. Clearing her throat, she looked at the remaining masks, quickly spying the perfect one for Harry and handing it to him. "That's you sorted."

Harry looked down at the stag mask he held in his hands and gave an exasperated sigh. "Really?"

"Yes, really. You'll look amazing." Ginny helped him get the mask on, going up on her tiptoes to manage the antlers. Once he had it on, she stepped back, taking in the full effect. Tonight, he had on a dark suit of a more traditional cut, not quite as body-hugging as the one he'd worn to dinner at the very top of the Eiffel Tower and he wore a tie, a red-and-gold striped affair that reminded her of long cozy evenings in the Gryffindor common room.

The stag mask covered the upper half of his face, leaving only his mouth and chin visible, the soft brown fur contrasting with his dark hair. The antlers rose high above his head, ending in sharp points. His green eyes shone at her from the eyeholes, giving her an odd sort of double vision for a moment and she shook her head to clear it.

"All right?" he asked, reaching out for her elbow.

"Fine." The man behind the table had his hand on the doorknob and as he turned it, Ginny realized it was made out of a child's skull. He waved them into the passage, obviously pleased with their choice of masks. _Here we go,_ she thought as she took a deep breath.

The door closed behind them and they stopped, letting their eyes adjust to the dimmer light. "Do you want to go in first or do you want me to?" Harry asked in a low voice.

The fluttering in her stomach was back and she had a strange crawling sensation on the back of her neck. "I'll go first," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Don't be afraid to Apparate out if you don't feel safe, yeah?"

"Of course." She took his hand, absently feeling for his wedding ring. "No ring," she said, reminding herself that their rings were safely tucked away in his inner jacket pocket. Her own finger felt strangely light without hers.

"Problem?"

Ginny shook her head and gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go and turning around, walking quickly away, the sound of her high heels on the stone floor echoing in the passage.

The sound of music and conversation grew louder as she approached an archway cleverly outlined in curving rib bones. Pausing on the threshold, she looked back, reassured by Harry's silhouette in the dim light behind her.

"Ah, une belle oiseau," a man said and Ginny nearly jumped in surprise.

"Oh my goodness, you surprised me," she said, putting her hand to her chest.

"Ah, a beautiful English rose," the man said and she realized he was wearing a ferret mask, the brown stripe of fur over the mask's eyes and pert black button nose giving him a rakish air. His exposed chin sported a brown and silver beard that matched the mask perfectly. He took her hand and led her to an elaborately draped table laden with all sorts of delicate nibbles. Another man with slicked-back hair, this one with a pencil-thin mustache, seemed to be operating the bar.

"Champagne?" her new companion asked and she nodded, trying to take in her surroundings without seeming like too much of a country bumpkin. The space was enormous, the other side of the room fading into darkness despite the glimmering lights all around. All of the walls and pillars she could see were covered in old bones, just like the passageway she'd just gone through.

People in fancy dress topped by outlandish masks swirled around her, forming groups and breaking apart with a low buzz of French conversation and she had a brief sensation of vertigo. She spotted a string quartet in one corner as she absently took the glass of champagne. "Thank you," she said, nodding her appreciation when she took a sip.

"So, what brings you here tonight? Looking for something special?" the man said, tucking her arm into his as he led her away from the bar.

"Not anything specific, really. Thought I'd come and see what struck my fancy," she said, lamenting the fact that the mask prevented her from batting her lashes at him.

As they threaded through the crowd, she began to realize how vast the space was. _It's like a vault, but bigger than anything I've ever seen at Gringott's._ The bone decorations in here were more elaborate; undulating spines recalling waves on an ocean against a wall. "What about you?" she asked, eyes following the delicate arrangement of finger bones decorating a nearby column. Harry's plan echoed in her mind. _See if you can find out who might be interested in Portrait of a Man Holding Hat. We'll want to know who we're up against._

The man in the ferret mask inclined his head. "I have my eye on a few things," he said, sipping his champagne.

"Oh? Why don't you show me?" Ginny said, resisting the urge to pull away from him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry enter the room, his stag mask making him look like he was wearing a crown. Turning her head, she saw that she wasn't the only one who'd noticed his entrance. As she tried not to stare, a woman wearing a cheetah mask looked him up and down, whispering to her companion, a woman disguised as a squirrel with tall, tufted ears.

"Shall we go see what's up for auction tonight?" the man said in a low voice, bringing her to a group of paintings arrayed on a length of golden cloth. They were standing upright, leaning against what Ginny realized was an alcove-filled wall, each alcove holding a complete skeleton. Pulling her attention away from the ancient remains, she focused on the stolen artworks in front of her.

* * *

Harry watched Ginny walk down the passageway, the skirt of her dress swishing around her shapely legs. _She can handle herself. You're going to be in the same room in a few minutes,_ he thought, resisting the impulse to catch up with her. _Keep to the plan, Potter._

While he waited to follow her into the auction, he went over the plan he'd laid out while they had lunch in a charming sidewalk cafe. "Okay, let me see if I have this right," Ginny said, leaning back in her chair. "We're going to this thing together, but not together?"

"Correct." Harry said, savoring his after-lunch coffee.

"Why? Why can't we do this together?"

"Because love, I want you to work your own sort of magic on the prospective bidders."

"Oh? What sort of magic? Confundus Charm?" Ginny asked, raising a delicate red eyebrow.

"Nothing so overt." Harry leaned forward and took one of her hands in both of his. "I need you to be witty, charming and drop-dead gorgeous. I want every man in there to be so distracted by you that they forget about our man holding a hat."

"I see. And what will you be doing?"

Harry grinned and winked at his wife. "I'll be doing my own distracting."

"You will, will you? Harry Potter, playboy?" A sly smile stole across her face and she leaned in closer to him, almost close enough to kiss. "Do you know what this reminds me of?"

Harry stared at her, his scalp tingling at the sight of her half-closed eyes and pursed lips. "What?" he whispered, wishing they were anywhere but a bustling cafe right at that moment.

"Do you remember that Ministry Christmas party all those years ago?"

Sighing, Harry shook his head, giving her a rueful smile. "I'm never living that down, am I?"

"You really should have just asked me to the party," Ginny whispered, sending a chill across the back of his neck. Harry closed his eyes, anticipating a kiss only to open them at the sound of her chair scraping on the floor.

"Where are you going?" he asked as she stood and picked up her purse.

"Well, if I'm going to serve as a _distraction_, then I need to do that shopping I talked about." she said, pushing the chair back in. "I didn't really bring anything distraction-worthy and I've already worn my little black dress."

Harry finished his coffee and stood, leaving cash on the table. "Do you need any money?"

"I think that black card you're so fond of should cover what I need." She stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. "I'll see you back at the hotel in a couple of hours." She gave him a wave and sauntered down the busy street, Harry staring after her until she was swallowed up by the crowd.

Coming back to the present, Harry adjusted the cumbersome stag mask, making sure it was on straight before heading toward the sound of music.

* * *

As she moved around the cavernous room full of masked people, Ginny was acutely aware of Harry. He was never far away and even occasionally in the same group as people came together and parted ways like a flock of starlings. Glad of the mask, she used the cover to watch him, reminding herself of her first year at Hogwarts when she catalogued his every move.

_Where did this Harry come from?_ she wondered, accepting another glass of champagne from the man in the ferret mask. The Harry she knew hated crowds and tolerated social gatherings with ill grace, usually looking to leave early. _This one, though …_

This Harry moved effortlessly through the assemblage, easily joining conversations in progress or striking one up with someone admiring the art on display. The antlers of the stag mask made him easy to spot and she found her eyes constantly drawn to his tall figure as he held forth on the merits of different painters or spoke about the Muggle stock market and banking industry as if he really _were_ an investment banker.

Ginny forced herself to stay impassive as a woman wearing a panda mask laughed at something Harry had said, casually putting a hand on his arm. Her scalp prickled when he didn't do anything to shrug her off, letting the touch linger. The woman leaned in toward him, whispering something in his ear as she led him away towards a painting of Napoleon.

"Let's go look at that one," Ginny said to her ferret-masked companion. "I've always had an interest in powerful men."

The man gave her a very un-ferret-like grin. "By all means," he said, taking her hand. The only things she knew about him was his first name, Gerard, that he was very wealthy and he had trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Standing a little ways from Harry and the panda woman, Gerard gestured to the painting and started talking, clearly very knowledgeable about the piece. Ginny tuned him out, keeping an ear out for pauses that indicated a response was needed from her.

The panda woman seemed to be using the subject of the painting, Napoleon, as an opening to flirt with Harry. "It's a popular misconception that the Emperor was a short man, did you know that?" she said, her lilting French accent making Ginny grit her teeth.

"Mm, no, I didn't, actually," Harry said, his tone indicating that he was _very_ interested in what she had to say. Ginny resolutely looked away, trying to focus on flirting with her own chosen target, but found her eyes drawn back to him, the mask reminding her of the stag inked on his hip.

"Yes. You see, the problem stems from the differences between the French inch," she said, holding her thumb and forefinger a certain distance apart, "and the English inch." She put her thumb and forefinger closer together, giving Harry an impish smile. Ginny gripped her champagne glass tighter. _That bloody fucking bint!_

The woman looked up at Harry, reaching out to smooth the lapel of his jacket. "Now because of this, modern-day people interpreted his height as 160 centimeters, which is quite short for a man, especially now. But he was really 170 centimeters which was actually tall for the time," she said, giving him a speculative look. "I'd put you at 183 centimeters, non?"

"C'est bien ça," Harry said, the antlers on his mask dipping as he inclined his head in a nod. Over the panda woman's head, he looked at Ginny and their eyes met for moment, and an image of the two of them locked in an embrace in a shadowy corner came to her, delivering the sensation of an electric shock all over her skin.

_Damn Legilimens, _she thought_, _her cheeks burning. She turned her back on Harry to face her own companion. He was looking at her expectantly and she realized she'd missed a question from him. "I'm sorry, I was drawn in by the painting."

"I completely understand," Gerard said, patting her hand magnanimously. "You see the Emperor's eyes? How they have a fire in them? Very difficult to capture."

"Yes, I see." Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw the woman pull Harry towards another painting, this one of an oddly stilted-looking racehorse held by a groom and she held back a sigh, continuing to feign interest in what Gerard was saying about Napoleon. She remembered the image of the two of them Harry had sent her and a tingling warmth settled in her belly.

* * *

Harry controlled his breathing, keeping it slow and even in order to project the attitude that he was completely at ease surrounded by strangers with their identifying facial features covered by glittering animal masks. Ever since he'd entered the giant, bone-studded cavern everything in him screamed at him to grab Ginny and get out get out _get out_. The spot between his shoulders burned and his headache was not helped by the heavy, antlered mask.

The moment he'd entered, his eyes sought out Ginny, keying in on her distinctive red hair and he exhaled in relief that she was safe. _It's been five minutes, Potter. She's a witch and can defend herself quite well from the likes of these_, he thought, chiding himself.

A woman in what he thought was a cheetah mask approached him, a welcoming smile on her exposed mouth. "Bienvenue, monsieur …?" she said, holding out a petite hand.

"Henry," he said, raising her hand to his lips and kissing the air over it. _First names only,_ had been the stipulation on the invitation.

"Ah, English," she said, smoothly switching languages. "Can I offer you champagne?"

"Yes, that would be wonderful." He saw Ginny accept a glass of champagne from a man wearing a ferret mask, the mask reminding him of Draco's transfiguration at the hands of Barty Crouch Jr. The man leaned close, his mouth close to Ginny's ear and he saw her blush. Smothering a growl, he followed the masked woman through the crowd.

By the time they reached the bar, Ginny and the ferret man had walked off, heading toward the stolen art on display. He tracked the pair with his eyes, unwilling to turn his head and make his attention obvious. Other men in the room weren't so subtle, openly staring at his wife as she passed. "Sorry?" he asked, realizing that the woman was talking to him.

"I asked what brings you here tonight, Henry? Are you a … collector?"

"I've always had an appreciation for beautiful things, you could say," he said, allowing the corner of his mouth to quirk up. He held out his arm to her, nodding when she took it. "Shall we take a look?"

They passed the string quartet playing unobtrusively in the corner and Harry thought he caught the ghost of Ginny's perfume as he steered the cheetah-masked woman toward Portrait of a Man Holding a Hat. If he hadn't believed Lisa's story that it was another wizarding painting before, he believed it now. The man in the painting looked resigned to his fate, surveying the possible buyers with a definite lack of enthusiasm. He wished he could offer the portrait some reassurance that he would soon be back where he belonged, but there was no way he'd be able to communicate with it in this crowd.

"What d'you think about this one?" he asked, gesturing toward the desolate-looking man, knowing that the woman in the mask saw only the subject standing tall, large black hat held in his left hand as he stared haughtily out.

The woman contemplated the painting, weight on one foot and champagne held in front of her. "It's an excellent representation of 17th century Flemish work. I think it would look very fine in a drawing room or library. He has that sort of gravitas, non?"

"Indeed," Harry said, sipping a bit of his very good champagne in a vain attempt to dull his burgeoning headache. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny leaning over to get a closer look at a painting, the back of her skirt exposing her creamy thighs. "I understand this piece is _on loan_ from the Louvre," he said, forcing his attention away from his wife's legs.

The woman in the cheetah mask giggled and nodded. "The Louvre, the Prado, the Hermitage; they all think they're impregnable fortresses, but there are always ways around such things," she said, giving Harry a warning tingle.

_Magic? Is that how they're doing this? I wonder if Ginny can do her … thing. _Covering his unease with a grin, Harry cocked his head at the painting. "I quite like him. I might have recently come into a drawing room that might suit him fine."

"I see. How are you for fireplaces? I think there's something over here that might go well." She led him over to a large painting, passing Ginny and the ferret-man. The man's hand on her arm raised Harry's hackles and he resisted the impulse to jab an elbow into his ribs as they passed.

He let the woman lead him around, getting an idea of the art to be auctioned off. All of it was stolen and he remembered Ginny's trip to Boston and the museum she and Ben had gone to where they kept up the frames in the empty places where the pieces stolen in the 90s had been. _I wonder if anything is from that place? I could buy it and replace it anonymously._

As the evening went on, he did his best to lose himself in the game of being witty and charming, resolutely ignoring all of the signals telling him to _get out get out get out. _Ginny was never far from his gaze and he watched without seeming to as she effortlessly reduced the sophisticated men around her to peacocking schoolboys.

_Myself included,_ he acknowledged, using the opportunity of a stray glance to send her an image via Legilimancy. The two of them in a shadowy corner, lips locked together. He had his hand on her hip, the beads and lace of her dress rough against his palm, she had her legs spread apart just wide enough for his thigh. Her perfume was thick in his nose and she gave the most delightful sigh …

A ripple of heat moved down from his scalp all the way to his toes when she blushed and resolutely turned her back on him. He had the sensation of a burgeoning erection and he recalled a piece of advice Ginny had given Teddy several years ago and he stood still, concentrating on flexing the muscles of his thighs. _This isn't helping at all,_ he thought, deciding to fall back on old reliable: Aunt Marge floating up into the nighttime sky.

He eventually lost track of the cheetah-masked woman and found a woman wearing the likeness of a lemur at his elbow. He felt like he had a pretty good idea of which paintings would be hotly-contested and it didn't look like their target was one of them. _Might get out of this a bit cheaper than I thought I would. Still need to see if I can get Gin alone and see if she can tell me if there are any other wizards about._

He looked for her, spotting her over by the string quartet. Thus far, the man in the ferret mask had managed to fend off all other suitors, keeping one hand possessively on Ginny's arm or shoulder and once, Harry saw through a haze of red, her waist.

He tried to think of ways he might get her away from him without seeming obvious, though the thought of walking up and knocking out the other man cold did have a certain allure. She'd been driving him mad all night as he trailed her around the cavern, getting occasional hints of her perfume. The soft lights glowed on her bare shoulders, giving him the worst ache to kiss them.

He had resigned himself to burning in silence when he saw her say something to the man and let go of his arm, handing him her empty champagne glass. _Ah, the toilet, _he thought when he saw where she was heading.

"I'll be right back," he murmured to what might be his third or fourth companion of the night, setting his own empty glass on a nearby tray. He actually did need the loo and walked quickly, hoping to conclude his business before Ginny did. Armed with two fresh glasses of champagne, Harry waited outside of the entrance to the women's loo, leaning casually against a bone-encrusted pillar.

"Good evening," he said when Ginny came out, stepping forward.

Ginny paused for a moment, clearly surprised, but quickly recovered, taking the glass he held out to her. "Hello. I don't think we've met. I'm Jenny," she said, looking up at him through the eyeholes in her bird mask.

"Henry," Harry said, an odd sort of prickling running along his skin and he thought back to the bar when he'd glamoured himself as an Irishman. He stood there looking at her at a loss for what to say after chasing her and being teased by her all evening.

"Well, Henry, it's wonderful to meet you. Why don't we take a look around?" Ginny said, saving him. She took his arm and led him toward the string quartet. "Fancy a dance?"

A moment later, Harry held Ginny in his arms as they whirled through a waltz, moving effortlessly through the macabrely-decorated pillars and masked auction goers. Headache rapidly fading, he spotted the ferret-masked man staring at them and wished he could see the full expression on his face. "So, what have you found out?" Ginny asked in a low voice.

"Our man is definitely a wizarding painting, but he doesn't seem to have attracted much interest," Harry murmured, tearing his attention away from his erstwhile rival. The lace and beads on Ginny's dress did indeed feel rough on his palms and he remembered the vision he'd sent to her via Legilimancy.

"I feel so awful for him. I wanted to say something, but there was no way I could," Ginny said, her voice full of sympathy for the stolen painting.

"Yeah, I feel the same." Harry glanced around, steering them behind a pillar for a bit more privacy. They stopped dancing and he stared down at her, noting her parted lips. "I knew that mask was going to be trouble," he said, running his finger over the arching beak.

"When have you let a little thing like that stop you?" she whispered, looking up at him, the brightly-colored feathers of her mask making her look like something otherworldly.

He rubbed his thumbs over the soft skin of her shoulders, taking pleasure at the flush of blood in the pale skin of her throat. He leaned forward, the scent of her perfume almost overpowering in the close space. Tilting his head to the side so as not to spear her with the damned antlers on top of his mask, he lowered his mouth to the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

Ginny gasped, pressing her body harder against his, making him groan as he nibbled at her delicate skin. "Harry—"

"Henry," he corrected, raking his teeth against a tendon, gratified at her shiver.

"Can't we just grab the painting and Apparate out of here?"

Harry gave the enticing column of her neck a last kiss and pulled away, breathing hard. He grinned down at her and winked. "Love, what's the fun in that? We're here to do a little cat and mouse, aren't we?"

Ginny crossed her arms, leaning back against the pillar. "I'd much rather be having a bit of how's-your-father right about now," she said, making him chuckle.

"I want to know if you can do something for me."

"Oh? What would that be? We've only just met and already you're asking me for favors," Ginny said, a smile playing on her lips. "So forward, Mr …?"

"Pitchford," Harry said, leaning closer to her ear. "I have some suspicions about one or two of our fellow auction-goers and I wanted to know if you could maybe do that thing."

"That thing?"

"Yeah, you know." Harry stepped back and wiggled his fingers, thankful for the mask for once as his face flooded with heat.

"You think there are wizards here?" Ginny asked, voice pitched low. Harry shrugged and she nodded. "I noticed one gentleman seemed to be taking more of an interest in our target. Maybe he could see it as it really is?"

"Maybe. It's the man in the polar bear mask. Do you need to be very close?"

"Where is he?"

"Over by the bar, chatting up that woman in the cheetah mask."

Ginny glanced over and grinned. "Jealous?"

Harry snorted. "Not of that one, but me and that ferret bloke might have to have a conversation if he keeps looking this way." Currently, the man in the ferret mask was chatting up a tall woman wearing a doe mask, but he kept looking at Ginny and frowning.

"Well, it seems I've come over all thirsty. Shall we see what whisky is available?"

Casually tucking Ginny's hand into his elbow, Harry guided them to the bar. The man from the door had joined the original bartender and he guessed that meant that all of the anticipated guests had arrived for the evening. Conscious of Ginny next to him, he made a show of mulling over the available whiskies.

The tall man in the polar bear mask was at the other end of the bar, speaking very loudly to the woman in the cheetah mask and Harry tried to identify his accent but was unsuccessful; the man sounded like he could be from almost anywhere. Glancing at his wife, he saw that she had her eyes closed and he put a steadying hand against the small of her back, hoping that sort of gesture would go unremarked.

The bartender approached him with a questioning look and just as Harry was about to make his request, Ginny gave what sounded like a gasp and swayed a little on her very high heels. Harry put his arm more securely around her waist, afraid she might topple over. "Mademoiselle?" the bartender said, quickly opening a bottle of Perrier and handing it to her.

"Oh, merci beaucoup," Ginny said, taking a careful sip. She nudged Harry in the ribs. "Say, aren't you supposed to be getting us something a bit more exciting?"

"Indeed," he said, his heart slowing down to a more regular rhythm now that she seemed none the worse for wear. "Deux Balvenie, s'il vous plait," he said, gesturing to the bottle of twelve-year-old double wood he saw on the shelf. Nodding his thanks, he led Ginny away from the bar and the polar bear man. In anticipation of the auction, intimate groupings of tables and chairs were being set up by more men with slicked-back hair.

"Well?" he asked once they were seated away from the chatter of the crowd. He leaned in close, aware of prying eyes.

Ginny took a sip of her whisky before answering. "Well, I think both of our hunches were right, but maybe not quite in the way we thought."

"Oh?" Harry frowned and took a drink, holding the whiskey in his mouth for a moment before swallowing.

"I think our polar bear is a vampire," she whispered, sending a rippling chill down the back of Harry's neck. Cutting his eyes back towards the bar, he almost stood up when he saw the alleged vampire was no longer there. "He's over by that pillar." Ginny tilted her head and he followed with his eyes, blowing out a short breath when he saw him, now chatting to a different woman.

He met Ginny's eyes, unsurprised at the half-smile on her face. "So, uh, what makes you think he's a vampire?"

She frowned, her gaze turning inward and he gave her time to gather her thoughts. "Well, when I, you know, stretch out, I can usually sense things, even from Muggles, but in the space he was, there wasn't really anything." She paused for a moment, pursing her lips. "No, not nothing … more like an afterimage."

"Like when you look at a bright light?" Harry prompted after a moment.

"No, more like … an old, faded photograph. Like it used to be vibrant and colorful, but now it's just a few shadows." Ginny drank some more of her whisky and Harry reached across the table, squeezing her hand.

"Thank you, love."

"Of course," she said, squeezing back.

Harry sat, trying to think of ways he might insinuate himself in to the conversation between the polar bear vampire and his current companion without seeming glaringly obvious, when he saw a man approach the podium at the front of the seating area.

Unlike the other men that seemed to be associated with this decidedly underground gathering, this one had bright blond hair that he wore in what Harry thought was called a "man-bun". He tapped the mic and unleashed a torrent of French as women wearing various masks circulated through, handing each person a white paddle with a large black number.

Harry took one from a woman disguised as a koala, glancing at the number on it. "317," Ginny said, taking her own paddle. "Convenient, don't you think?"

"Mm," Harry grunted, watching as the glittering crowd filtered into the seating area.

"What's our strategy?" Ginny leaned forward, holding her paddle against the side of her face to cover her mouth.

"To get out of here as cheaply as possible." He sighed and settled back in the chair, spinning the handle of the paddle in his hand. "Well, there's no lot numbers or catalog, so I don't know when our man will come up for bidding." He looked towards the podium where the blond man was arranging papers. "Doesn't look like there's any remote bidding."

"How can you tell?"

"No telephones, but I suppose someone could be contacting their agent on a mobile." The vampire walked past their table and Harry watched him with hooded eyes as the creature pulled out a chair for the cheetah-masked woman.

"Uh oh," Ginny said, snapping open her little handbag and pulling out a tube of lipstick.

Harry watched, mesmerized as the lipstick slid over the plump curves of her lips. "What's that for?"

"You are going to ask me for another favor." Ginny capped the lipstick and dropped it back into her handbag. She leaned forward and crossed her arms on top of the table, bringing his attention to her breasts. "You are going to owe me big time, Pitchford."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, leaning towards her. The lights in the cavern practically made her skin glow and he ached to skate his fingertips along her bare, freckled shoulders. "How big?"

"So big. You may never repay me," she whispered, her freshly-painted lips close to his ear. His skin shivered and he felt an unmistakable stirring in his trousers.

He reached out and straightened a lock of hair that had gotten caught up in her bird mask. "How do you feel about chatting up a vampire?"


	5. Chapter 5

Ginny took a deep breath, taking a moment to center her thoughts and feelings. She closed her eyes, searching out the sensation of her fizzy, bubbly magic, making sure it was well contained within her own being. _That vampire can probably smell my breakfast in my blood, but I sure don't want to give him anything extra,_ she thought as she opened her eyes.

Fixing her gaze on the vampire in the polar bear mask, Ginny took a fresh glass of champagne and did her best to saunter over, trying not to look at Harry as she passed him at the table they'd recently shared. Now that she knew what he was, it was easy to spot the hallmarks of the vampire, even behind the mask. _Skin stretched just a little too tight over bones, so pale as to be almost translucent, yet no veins visible underneath. _She cast a glance to one of his hands, entwined with the fingers of the young lady sharing his table. _Oh dear. I wouldn't let those anywhere near me._ His fingernails were thick and yellow and looked altogether too sharp for any sort of comfort.

"Hello," she said brightly, "is this seat taken?"

The vampire looked up at her, his hollow eyes shining through the eyeholes of his mask. "What a beautiful bird," he said, his accent making him sound like he could be from anywhere. Ginny wondered where exactly that was. _And when._

"You flatter me," she said, sitting down in the chair he pulled out for her, ignoring the look the other woman shot her way, the delicate lynx mask she wore doing little to disguise her ire. Ginny gave her a smile and deliberately put a little extra Devon in her accent. "I've never been to one of these. Do I just wave this around?" She held up the wooden paddle with 320 on it.

"Ah, well, one could, but then one might end up spending more than one desires," the vampire said, a faint smile on his bloodless lips. He leaned in close, taking the paddle out of her hand and setting it on the table. He took her hand in his and Ginny worked hard not to flinch at his too-cool touch. "Are you here for anything in particular?"

Hoping the vampire couldn't sense her racing heart, she smiled broadly. "Oh, no. I'm a bit of a tagalong, you see." She tilted her head towards Harry, taking the opportunity to withdraw her hand from the vampire's as she swept her hair over her shoulder. "I came with him, but he's a bit too … stuffy for my liking." She leaned over to the woman in the lynx mask. "Investment banker," she said in a stage whisper. Just as she'd hoped, the woman looked at Harry, her frank appraisal of him obvious.

She raised her champagne glass to her mouth, not intending to take a single sip and looked at the vampire over the rim of the delicate glass. "What about you? Are you here for anything in particular?"

This time the vampire gave her a full smile, revealing the tips of canines that were a little too sharp to be fully human. He wagged his finger at her as if she were a naughty child. "I have my eye on some things, yes. How do I know that your investment banker hasn't sent you over here to distract me?"

"Am I doing a good job?" she asked, a thrill running though her at her smooth rejoinder as the vampire laughed again. The sound of it made her think of that one time when Ron had convinced her there was a ghost in their orchard and had taken her out there in the dead of night to see it, only to abandon her all alone and scared out of her skin.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the lynx-masked woman get up and leave them, settling down at Harry's table. Ginny imagined the woman's spiteful glare and was about to make a comment when the lights dimmed and then came back up. The blonde man with the stylish bun was back up at the podium, unleashing rapid-fire French.

Chairs scraped and creaked as everyone settled down, the low buzz of the chatter in the cavernous room going quiet. "Ah, we are about to start," the vampire said in a low, eager voice. He sounded like he was about to begin a hunt and Ginny wondered if he'd taken the pledge. _I rather doubt it._

The suave auctioneer waited until all eyes were on him, the room seeming to hold its breath until he nodded and a pair of the men with the slicked-back hair brought up the first work up for auction, setting it carefully on an easel. A collective sigh went up at the sight of the charming landscape and Ginny heard several whispers as the auctioneer opened the bidding in quick, rat-a-tat French.

"Any interest?" she asked, giving her vampire companion a sidelong look.

He shook his head. "That is not what I am after tonight," he said, his voice drawing her eyes to his. "I don't believe I caught your name, my lovely bird."

Ginny had a strange sensation of vertigo as she met the vampire's soulless eyes and she almost shook her head at the prickling of hairs on her scalp. In that moment she knew that he was old and powerful and that he had most definitely _not_ taken the pledge. "Jenny," she said, barely managing to not blurt out her true name at the last second.

"Pleased to meet you, Jenny," he purred, patting her warm hand with his cool one. "You may call me Edward."

And so, Ginny sat next to a vampire in a Paris catacomb, surrounded by bones hundreds of years old while priceless, stolen artworks were auctioned off in front of her. She tried to keep her focus on Edward, occasionally drawing him into conversation about the art on display, but she found her eyes drawn to Harry as he raised his paddle to bid early on several pieces, always allowing himself to be outbid.

The woman in the lynx mask made a show of leaning in close to Harry and whispering in his ear, making Ginny heartily regret chasing her off from the vampire's table.

A painting of a bucolic scene of a shepherd and his flock came up next, a low susurration of sound rippling through the crowd. "Oh, this looks nice," Ginny said, catching the name of the artist. "Bonheur. Sounds French."

"Yes, she was one of the best female French painters," Edward said, sounding distracted. "She was quite exquisite." The way he said it made Ginny think that he didn't just mean her talent for painting sheep. The auctioneer opened the bidding and the vampire leaned forward, putting his hand on his paddle for the first time.

_Oh, maybe he's not after our man after all,_ she thought with a wave of relief, only to be disappointed when Edward dropped out after trading several bids with a man wearing a chimpanzee mask. Ginny was furiously trying to convert the price in Euro to Galleons when she saw a flash of white out of the corner of her eye as Harry raised his paddle. _Harry!_ _Just what do you think you are you doing?_

Looking over her shoulder, she saw the woman in the lynx mask whispering in her husband's ear, a small smile playing on his lips. Ginny's blood surged, bringing a quick heat to her cheeks as she quelled the desire to rip the mask off the woman's face and beat her with it.

Harry's bid seemed to reinvigorate Edward's interest in the painting and he picked up his paddle, outbidding him by a tidy sum. Ginny heard Harry's paddle hit the table as he made an exaggerated sound of disgust, allowing the auctioneer to call the lot for the vampire.

"Well, looks like you've got what you wanted," Ginny said, leaning in conspiratorially. "I wouldn't have let him have it, either. He'd probably hang it in some stuffy drawing room."

Edward looked at her, a curious half smile on his exposed lips. "What I really want has yet to come up, my dear," he said, drawing the tip of his finger down her bare arm. Ginny hoped he took her shudder of revulsion for a shiver of anticipation.

_Oh, please be up next,_ she thought fervently. _I don't know how much more of this I can take._ Sadly, Portrait of a Man Holding a Hat wasn't the lot up for auction after the shepherd. Nor was it the next one or the one after that. She was running out of things to try and distract him with when finally, _finally,_ Egbert Cornelis Janszoon was placed upon the easel by the two men with slicked-back hair.

A bolt of electricity zinged right through her and she shifted in her seat as she looked at the painting. The man looked completely resigned to his fate, holding his enormous hat in front of him like a shield as he stared out at the crowd. Ginny's heart went out to him at his abject expression of sadness and she wished she could tell him that everything was going to be all right and he'd be back with Lisa soon. Next to her, Edward the vampire leaned forward and picked up his paddle.

The auctioneer gave the particulars of the painting and just like that, the battle was joined. Ginny was dismayed to see that several other bidders were interested in the painting besides Harry and the vampire and she began to worry that what she at first thought to be a very generous budget from the French ministry wouldn't be enough.

She thought back to the conversation they'd had on the way to the auction. "Harry, what if the bidding goes higher than what Daniel said you could bid?" She held his hand in hers, thinking of how horrible it would be if they couldn't reunite Lisa with her lover, especially in this city that was known for romance.

Harry shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "I'm not without resources," he said, squeezing her hand. "But, I'm not going to bankrupt us, yeah? I know you promised Lisa—"

"I didn't promise, I said we'd do our best."

"You promised Lisa," Harry continued as if she hadn't interrupted him, "and I'm going to do what I can."

"But what if he goes for too much?"

"Well, we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it, won't we?" He smiled down at her and stopped walking, bending over to give her a kiss that gave her stomach a swooping, roller coaster-y sensation.

_And now here's that bridge,_ she thought, her mind swirling as the numbers went up and up and up until finally it was only Edward and Harry, trading bids like tennis balls across a court. Even the urbane auctioneer seemed surprised once the number went above 250,000 euro.

Edward sat next to her, ramrod straight and focused as he raised his paddle again and again and she wrinkled her nose, aware of a peculiar scent rising from him. _Is that … elderberries? I really need to learn more about vampires!_

"500,000 euro," the auctioneer said, nodding at Edward, a questioning look on his face. Ginny gasped, taken by surprise at the number. _That's all of our money! Drop out! Please let us take him back to Lisa!_ she pleaded silently.

Edward considered, his hand on his paddle and Ginny experienced the heady rush of victory, only to have it come crashing down when he raised it in the affirmative. "Bon. 525,000 euro, monsieur," he said, turning that same questioning look on Harry.

Shrugging, Harry nonchalantly flipped his paddle up, causing Edward to grunt in irritation and quickly raise his paddle in response before the auctioneer could even name the new figure. Numb, Ginny could only sit as the number swirled ever higher, finally giving up on trying to figure how much it was in wizard gold.

"1.25 million euro," the auctioneer said, causing fellow auction goers to break out in low chatter. Ginny bit back a groan, horrified at the cost. "Monsieur?"

Edward stared at the painting, his skin even paler than it had been. No longer smiling, he snarled, casting a glare at Harry so full of malice that Ginny's fingers itched to close on her wand safely hidden in her purse. "Non," he said, throwing his paddle down with a clatter.

Ginny's mind reeled, staggered by the amount as polite applause broke out around her. _How in the world are we going to manage that? _she thought, turning to look at Harry. The lynx woman clung to him, but he looked directly at her, meeting her eyes. Warm reassurance swept over her. _I have a plan _resonated in her mind.

The auctioneer's assistants took the painting down from the easel and Ginny had to be careful not to react as Egbert covered his painted face with his hands, shoulders shaking in sorrow as he was put with the other sold works. "Bad luck," she murmured to the vampire. All of his agitation seemed to have gone out of him and he sat as still as a marble statue, staring straight ahead, completely ignoring her.

Ginny's skin prickled and she took a gulp of the champagne she'd never intended to drink. "All of that excitement's got me a bit …" she whispered waving her hands around. "I'm going to go to the loo." The auctioneer was already starting the bidding on the next work, a painting of a very well-fed man in an ornate curly wig. Passing Harry's table, she made sure to bump into the lynx-masked woman's chair, disturbing her from her comfortable spot next to her husband.

"Sorry," she mouthed as the woman shot her a look of disgust, pointing down to her high heels. "New shoes." Shaking her head, the woman turned to Harry, whispering in his ear. Once more the urge to give her a proper bollocking came to Ginny and she spun around before she could act on it and ruin their ruse. _Get it while you can, girlie. He's coming home with me._

* * *

Harry held himself still, trying to appear outwardly calm as his thoughts roiled around in his head. _Oh, God, 1 million euro? What have I done? There's no way I can squeeze Daniel for that much more. _He felt eyes on him and glanced over, catching the hate-filled look the vampire sent his way, instinctively setting up an Occlumency block against any possible vampiric influence as his opponent threw down his auction paddle in disgust.

Ginny turned to look at him as quiet applause broke out at the stunning conclusion of the auction and Harry calmed his mind, meeting her gaze and sending reassurance to her. _I have a plan,_ he thought before cutting off contact. _Now I just need to figure out what that plan is! A fucking million and a fucking quarter fucking euro! Shit!_

He watched as Ginny leaned into the vampire to say something before getting up and heading his way, only to stumble into the woman currently clinging to his arm. Wishing he could be rid of the ridiculous stag mask, he put out a hand, trailing his fingers against the rough lace and beadwork of the dress over her hip as she passed by.

Glad she was away from the vampire, Harry gently disengaged his arm from his table companion, leaning forward and trying to look like he was focused on the current auction as his mind raced, trying to come up with a resolution that didn't result in him spending more than half a million euro of his own money. He barely noticed when the lynx woman left his table, muttering something in French at him as she flounced away, clearly insulted by his lack of interest in her.

The last piece was on the easel, a modern piece that reminded Harry of James's scribbles. This was apparently the most anticipated piece of art for the evening as a low susurration went through the crowd at its appearance. Harry kept one eye on the vampire, conscious of the fact that he hadn't bid on anything else since losing the auction for the wizarding painting. He cast about for Ginny, catching sight of her on the edge of the auction seating area, keeping well away from the vampire. _Good. We should be able to go soon._

Finally, the bidding was down to two people, a thin woman wearing a swan mask and Ginny's erstwhile companion, the man in the ferret mask. They traded bids like insults across a family dinner table and Harry wondered if there was some history between the two. The avid audience gave a collective gasp when the bidding reached to two million euro, the woman in the swan mask looking confident, only to let out a dismayed squawk when her opponent raised the bid by a further fifty thousand euro.

The auctioneer turned to her expectantly, eyebrows raised and she leaned over to her companion, a man wearing the visage of a lion. He raised one shoulder in a lazy shrug and the swan woman nodded, raising the bid by another fifty thousand euro, crossing her arms with finality. Much as the vampire had, the man in the ferret mask tossed his paddle to the table, conceding the auction to the woman in the swan mask.

This time the applause was long and loud, drowning out the auctioneer's closing remarks as he banged his gavel on the podium, signaling the end of the event. _Time to pay the piper,_ Harry thought as he saw one of the assistants heading towards him with a clipboard in hand.

"Monsieur," the man said, handing him the clipboard. On it was a sheet of paper detailing the painting and the price he'd bought it for. He noticed there were no names anywhere.

_Well, nothing to do for it now but settle up. _He nodded and handed the clipboard back to the assistant. Reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket, he wrinkled his nose. _Is that … elderberries I smell?_ Looking up, he saw the vampire launching himself straight at him, a vicious snarl visible underneath the polar bear mask.

He barely had time to throw himself backward, upending his seat and managing a neat roll to come back up on his feet. Mindful of the non-magical crowd, Harry did not reach for his wand, standing ready to fight with his fists. _Fists against a vampire. I must be crazy! _He saw Ginny on the edge of the crowd, her hand held up to her mouth and a look of horror on her face.

_Stay there, love, _he thought watching as the Muggle auction-goers scrambled out of their seats, scattering like a flock of starlings. At the podium, the auctioneer stared, completely caught off-guard by the turn of events.

"You stole my painting," the vampire hissed, anger making his ambiguous European accent stronger.

"I didn't steal it," Harry said, pouring in as much affronted investment banker into his voice as possible. "It's an auction and that's what happens, mate."

"Monsieur—" the clipboard-carrying assistant began, stepping between the two of them. Harry just had time to think, _Bad move, friend,_ before the vampire snatched the clipboard out of his hands and cracked him over the head with it, using enough force to break it in half to send the man tumbling bonelessly to the floor.

The crowd gasped, a few women screamed and Harry found the circle around the two of them widening. An instant later, the vampire threw himself at him again, hands out in front of him, long fingernails like sharp yellow talons. The creature moved so fast that Harry only had a split second to react, dodging to the left as if he were a goalkeeper trying to block a penalty kick. He was mostly successful, the vampire managing to get the edge of sharp claw on his temple, severing the tie of his mask and delivering the sharp sting of a cut.

The mask fell away from his face, bringing a rush of relief and another gasp from the crowd. The vampire stared at him, nostrils flaring as he undoubtedly picked up the scent of his blood. A grin stretched those pale lips and he licked the tip of his finger. "Harry Potter," he said, his voice low and menacing.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" Harry asked, heart and mind racing as he flipped through his mental rogue's gallery from his Auror days, coming to rest on one specific … _entity, more like._ The vampire didn't respond, only giving another one of those guttural hisses as he circled around him, forcing Harry to turn on the spot.

Harry watched, wishing he could see the creature's eyes without the mask on to better tell which way he was going to move. He caught the dip of the vampire's shoulders as he attacked again, managing to get a hand on a stubby polar bear ear and pulling the mask off, causing the vampire to let out a rage-filled scream.

Momentarily frozen in shock, Harry let the mask fall from his grip. _Holy shit! He's Egbert Cornelis Janszoon!_ There in front of him in a very nice, modern suit was the subject of the painting he had just won at auction. The vampirism had made subtle changes—his skin was much paler than it had been in life, his eyes held none of the warm spark of life and Harry doubted that in life he'd ever moved like the predator he was now, but he was unmistakably the same man.

And he wasn't the only one who'd realized it. A man pointed at the vampire and then at the portrait, gabbling in breathless French. The vampire's eyes shifted from side to side and he snarled, exposing the tips of his fangs. Harry narrowed his eyes thinking back to that time he and Ron had come to France together … _Ah! Yes! I know you now! _Harry grinned and readied himself for another charge. "You know, you should really keep a tighter leash on your children," he said, planting his feet firmly on the floor.

The vampire let out a shriek, the sound of it making Harry's ears ring and his vision double, but the expected attack didn't come. Instead, the vampire gave a prodigious leap over the heads of the transfixed Muggles, heading straight for—"Gin! Get out!" he shouted, his heart leaping up into his throat.

Ginny stood still for several heartbeats, transfixed by the vampire leaping high over the crowd with unearthly grace and Harry readied himself to Apparate, but she beat him to it, winking out of existence without a sound just as the vampire landed in front of her. A split second later she was at the portrait, one hand on the frame.

"Go!" he roared. "Take it and go!" _The Statute is fucked anyway, just get out!_ Ginny didn't argue, didn't protest, just grabbed the portrait of Man Holding A Hat by its rococo-era gold frame and picked it up in both hands. Harry had a moment to see the look of horror on the portrait's face as he beheld himself in the flesh before they disappeared.

The former Egbert Janszoon let out another howl of rage, the fury of it battering at Harry's eardrums and setting the thousands of bones in the cavernous hall to vibrating. Muggles scrambled to get out of the cavern, all thoughts of anonymity gone now as masks fell to the floor and were trampled underfoot.

"You will pay, Potter!" the vampire spat, his soulless eyes shining like pools of black oil.

Drawing his wand, Harry stood firm, waiting for the perfect moment. The chaos of the screaming, fleeing Muggles receded into the background as the vampire leaped once more, seeking to come down on him from above.

A preternatural calmness took over Harry as he tracked the vampire's arc with his wand, waiting for him to reach the apex before whispering, _"Lumos solem."_ A bolt of the purest sunlight erupted from his wand, hitting the vampire in the middle of his chest. An expression of complete surprise came over his face before he exploded into an enormous cloud of ash, falling gently to the floor.

Spitting the vampire's ashes out of his mouth, Harry became aware of the sound of clapping and he looked up. "You've been here the whole time?" he said as Daniel walked toward him, an eagle mask hanging from his arm.

The French Auror shrugged. "No one else was available, oui?"

Harry's temper flared at his old friend and he took a deep breath, nearly choking on the last remnants of the vampire. "You," he said, pointing at him. "You and I—"

"Go to your wife, Harry. We'll take care of this." Daniel waved a laconic hand at the mess left by terrified Muggles and the recently-ended vampire.

"We're not done, you and me. You used me."

Daniel had the good grace to look somewhat abashed. "Go. We'll talk later."

Harry went.


	6. Chapter 6

Ginny opened her eyes, the bright lights of the women's loo at the Louvre a startling contrast to the dimness of the catacombs she'd just left. Heart racing, she took several deep breaths as she tried to organize her scattered thoughts, focusing on one in particular. So that vampire was really this gentleman here! I wonder what happened?

Pushing the bird mask up off of her face, she sighed in relief before turning the painting around to face it, the man looking back at her with a mournful expression. "Well, that was certainly unexpected, wasn't it? Mr Janszoon, I presume?"

He nodded once, seeming like he was coming out of the shock of seeing himself out in the real world. "Yes," he said. "I … think we can both agree that was very strange, yes?" His voice was low and mellow and his accent wasn't as hard to understand as she thought it would be.

"Very strange indeed!" she agreed, reliving the shock of seeing the vampire with the painting's face. How in the world did that happen? I thought wizard portraits didn't animate until the subject died. Maybe he did die? During the transformation? Or something? "Maybe Harry can—oh! Harry!"

She froze, the thought of the vampire attacking Harry surging to the front of her mind. Just as she was about to Apparate back to the catacomb, Harry appeared in the loo, covered entirely in what seemed to be some sort of dark gray ash.

Nearly prostrate with relief, Ginny propped the portrait up against a toilet cubicle, before sending ash flying off of him with a blast of air from her wand. Once Harry was clear of grayish substance, Ginny crushed her lips to his, kissing him the way she'd been wanting to all night. The scent of elderberries filled the loo. "Harry! What happened with the vampire? What've you got all over you?" she said when they finally broke apart.

Harry glanced at the portrait and then back at her, raising his eyebrow. "We'll chat about that later, all right? Right now, we have some work to do."

"Are we back at the Louvre?" the portrait asked, shaking off his melancholy. Ginny thought he looked quite handsome now that he wasn't so sad. I can see what Lisa sees in him!

"Yes. You won't be hanging up on some stranger's wall, after all," Ginny said, taking Harry's hand as he carefully levitated the portrait. They headed out of the women's loo and were halfway down the hall before she thought of the Disillusionment Charm. "Shouldn't we be disguised or something?"

Harry glanced up at the unobtrusive black ball in the ceiling and shrugged. "Nah. Let Daniel deal with it."

Ginny raised an eyebrow but chose not to say anything, certain that the French Auror had crossed her husband in some fashion. I'm sure I'll hear about it sooner rather than later. Let's just get this done; I'm ready to go home. At the thought of home, a sensation of giddiness swept through her and she squeezed Harry's hand, heart leaping when he squeezed back.

Portrait floating majestically in front of them, they made their way through the maze of galleries on their way to the Mona Lisa. Ginny found her steps speeding up until she and Harry were nearly jogging through the galleries, their footsteps echoing off of the priceless artworks surrounding them. Rounding a corner, they stopped, catching their breaths at the sight of the surprisingly small painting at the far end of the gallery.

"She's there! Oh, my love I never thought to see you again!" Egbert said, the sound of tears in his voice. Ginny felt her own throat tightening up in response.

As they approached, Ginny saw Lisa's eyes widen and that famous smile steal across her face. A shyness stole over Ginny while the two paintings stared avidly at each other for several moments before Lisa moved over to the painting with the fat horse so they could hear her.

"You have brought him back to me," she said, focusing that smile on Ginny, making it seem as if all was right in the world. "I can only offer my thanks."

"That's more than enough," Ginny said, glancing at Harry as if to dare him to say any different.

In his own frame, Egbert was murmuring endearments in what she supposed was Dutch before finally devolving into whispering Lisa's name over and over. "What do we do next?" she whispered, leaning in close to Harry.

"Put me back where I belong," Egbert said, making it sound like a command. "Put me back in my place so that my Lisa may come to me."

"As you wish," Harry murmured, taking Ginny's hand again as they left Lisa's gallery, Lisa following them through the myriad paintings until they arrived at the forgery. After spending all night watching the real, animated portrait, the forgery looked strange and stiff to Ginny's eyes.

She took out her wand and was about to levitate it off the wall when Harry put his hand out. "Hang on. Probably alarmed. We've been lucky tonight." Impatient, she waited while Harry performed some rather complicated wand movements before finally nodding at her.

Shaking with anticipation, Ginny took several calming breaths before using her wand to float the forgery off of the wall, setting it gently on the floor some distance away. A moment later, the proper wizarding portrait of Egbert Cornelus Janszoon hung in its place.

As soon as the portrait was hung, Ginny heard a cry and Lisa rushed into the ornate golden frame, throwing her arms around Egbert's neck, kissing him with wild abandon. Heat flooded her cheeks as she watched the reunited lovers and she conscientiously looked away, catching Harry's eyes. They shared an amused look and he took her hand again, drawing her to his side. Snuggling in his warmth, she stared around at the other paintings on display, trying to give the pair a little privacy.

The sound of a clearing throat drew her eyes back to the painting and she saw Egbert standing with his arm around Lisa's shoulders. He stood at his full height, Lisa looking positively tiny next to him, and inclined his head in a nod at her and Harry.

"You have my deepest and sincerest thanks for what you've done tonight," Egbert said. He paused for a moment, his expression darkening. "I know that your endeavor was not completely without risk. I … do not fully understand all of the circumstances, but I trust that the situation will be handled?"

"Erm, yeah, you don't have anything to worry about in that regard," Harry said with a wince and Ginny remembered the dark gray ash. I guess there's one less vampire in the world.

Lisa cleared her throat and stepped forward, hands clasped in front of her. "When Egbert was taken from here, I was certain that I would never see him ever again. You …" she paused for a moment, clearly overtaken with emotion. "You have saved me from an eternity of loneliness."

Ginny thought about that for a moment and shuddered. Taken away from everything you know and completely helpless to do anything about it. Not even able to die, but forced to simply exist. "Oh, it was our pleasure," she said, carefully wiping at her stinging eyes as Lisa moved back to stand with Egbert.

"Well, erm, I suppose we ought to be going?" Harry said, giving Ginny a sidelong look. "We've, uh, got to pack, yeah?"

A fierce stab of longing went through Ginny as she remembered that they were going back to England tomorrow before heading home to San Francisco. Oh, my boys! I'll see you tomorrow! she thought with a shiver of anticipation.

Her eyes fell on the forgery leaning against the wall. "What are we doing about that?"

Harry looked at it, lips pursed. "I think it would look nice in your mum and dad's lounge, don't you?"

"Why Mr Potter, what an excellent suggestion!" Ginny giggled, picturing the look on her mum and dad's faces when they beheld the static, severe visage of Egbert Cornelus Janszoon. "I expect he'll be spending a lot of time in the attic with the ghoul."

Lisa and Egbert watched as Harry picked up the forgery. Egbert looked like he was on the verge of saying something, but subsided at a touch from Lisa on his arm. Just like an old married couple. I wonder how long they've been together? "It was wonderful meeting you both," Ginny said. "Take care and maybe we'll see each other again someday."

Lisa favored her with that enigmatic smile once more. "Perhaps."

Hand in hand, Ginny walked with Harry out of the gallery. She glanced back, her view of the reunited lovers obscured by an enormous black hat.

* * *

Harry's lips traced a line down Ginny's neck, her skin as smooth as silk. He darted his tongue out, dipping into the hollow of her throat. "You know, love, I adore the smell of perfume on you, but I'm not overly fond of the taste," he said between kisses on her collarbone.

Ginny chuckled and swept the pad of her thumb along his brow. "Should I stop wearing it?"

"Hmm …" Harry murmured taking a deep breath. The fragrance she wore combined with her own natural scent into something that he couldn't imagine living without. Following her around all night at the illicit art auction and smelling her had been sheer torture and he bit down on the swell of her breast, meeting her eyes with his.

"Don't you come from a long line of potions geniuses?" Ginny asked, pulling him towards her for a kiss. "I'm sure you can come up with something that both smells and tastes good." Her kiss was electrifying, generating a tremble behind his belly button. "Maybe something along the lines of treacle tart?"

Harry went up on his elbows and raised an eyebrow at his wife. Her carefully-styled hair was a mess on the pillow and he wrapped a shining red lock around his finger. "Love, if I could find a way to make you taste like treacle tart …" he murmured, trailing off into a soft growl as his lips found her neck once more. He swept his tongue over her nipple, wrapping his lips around it and sucking gently as it hardened.

"Are you saying you'd never let me out of the house ever again?" Ginny asked, sounding just a bit out of breath.

"Never." Pushing her breasts together, Harry admired the sight of his hands pressing into her soft flesh. He ran his thumbs against the undersides of them, well aware of the fact that she was ticklish there. Lowering his mouth back down, he traced the very tip of his tongue along the crease of her full breast. "No perfume there," he remarked, walking his fingers down her belly.

"What about you?" Ginny asked, running her fingernails against his scalp through his thick hair.

"What about me what?" Harry closed his eyes, enjoying the shivery sensation generated by her touch.

"What about your cologne? I'm pretty good at potions. Maybe I could have a go at something."

Harry's fingers traced the waistband of her knickers, barely skimming along her skin. "What would you make it taste like?"

Ginny raised her arms over her head, bringing his attention back to her breasts. "Hmm, what would I like to lick off of you?" she mused, looking up at the ceiling.

"Not chocolate. That just made a mess." Harry scooted around, lying on his side and molding his body to hers.

"It did, didn't it? This doesn't have to be actual chocolate, though, it just has to taste like it. And smell like that one I got you for Christmas."

"Yeah? Which one?" Harry buried his nose in her hair and breathed deeply. The mingled scents of her shampoo, skin and perfume made his heart beat faster and he had a flash of the fear he'd felt at the sight of the vampire springing up into the air to attack her.

"The one by that Ford fellow. Tom, I think?" Ginny turned onto her side to face him, running her fingernail along the antler on his stag tattoo. She grinned and leaned in closer, taking a deep breath. "Someone's temperature just went up."

"How can you tell?" Harry asked, skin prickling as he broke out in a light sweat all over his body.

"I just got a burst of your cologne. Body heat makes it stronger." She looked up at him. "Excites the molecules."

Harry groaned when she moved her hand around to his bottom and gave him a good squeeze through the thin fabric of his boxers. "Bloody hell, but you manage to make science sound sexy."

"You think so? You should come to one of my presentations." Ginny leaned in close, putting her lips next to his ear. "Sometimes, we even have visual aids."

"Vijay would have an aneurysm if he found us shagging in your office."

"Wouldn't be the first time we'd been … inappropriate, now would it?" Ginny grinned at him and seemed about to say something before she frowned and licked her thumb, scrubbing at a spot on his temple. "What was that for?" Harry asked, wiping the spot with his own hand.

"You had a bit of vampire on you."

"Sorry." Harry turned over onto his back, bringing Ginny to lie on top of him, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of her skin against his own. "Want to shower with me?" he asked, lacing her fingers through his as he spread his arms, bringing her down for a kiss.

"I wonder what happened?" Ginny said, using the leverage of his hands to push away from him.

"Hmm? With what?" Now that she'd raised her upper body, her lower body was pressing delightfully into his and he spread his legs a little to help her settle closer.

"The vampire and the portrait. Obviously, Egbert was a wizard, right? But his portrait animated and Egbert was still … around. I thought that a wizard portrait couldn't animate until the subject was dead. Isn't it a bit of soul that goes in?" She pushed against his hands harder and sat up, straddling his hips. He stared as she gathered up her hair and tied it into a loose knot, wishing she'd left it loose.

"Are we really talking about this right now?" He traced the tip of a finger from the waistband of her knickers up to the middle of her chest.

"Yes, we are." Ginny gave her bottom a wiggle, rubbing against his hard cock. "I'm curious and I'm asking for your professional opinion," she said, punctuating her last two words by tapping him in the middle of his chest.

"My professional opinion," Harry sighed, putting his hands behind his head. "Well, you know how a vampire is created, don't you?"

"A bit. We covered them in training, but that was ages ago." Ginny leaned forward, resting her hands on his shoulders and slid her hips slowly back and forth. "There's a sort of master, isn't there?"

Harry closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of his gorgeous wife in the dim light of the room, breasts on full display as she teased him mercilessly. "Erm, well, any vampire can make children, but age—dammit, love, I'm trying to explain vampires to you!" He opened his eyes to glare at her as she looked back down at him with a catlike smile.

"Sorry, am I distracting you?" she asked, dragging her nails down his bare chest.

"You're the one who wanted answers."

"I thought you were doing fine. Carry on. You were saying something about age?" She smiled sweetly at him and cupped her breasts in her hands.

Resolutely, Harry closed his eyes again, determined to win this little contest. "Yes, the age of the vampire creating the child can matter. Younger vampires tend to make unstable children that are prone to killing when they're not hungry. Ron and I—" he paused, sucking in a breath as Ginny did something with her hips that sent a burst of heat into his belly. "Ron and I had to come to Paris and put one down."

"Why you two? Why not Daniel or someone here?" Ginny asked, sounding a little breathless.

"Vamp was a Brit. Our problem, yeah? One of Egbert's." Ginny stopped moving and Harry opened his eyes again, surprised at her frown.

"But he was turned in seventeen-something, wasn't he?"

"I guess so. That's young for a vampire still."

She shook her head, visibly setting that information aside for the moment. "But what about the portrait?" Now she seemed distracted by vampires and sat still.

"Well, I mean, you basically die. You have to choose it and accept it of your own free will, but your soul is no longer part of you. So, I suppose Egbert chose to become a vampire, died his first death and the bit of soul animated the portrait."

Still on top of him, Ginny stared over his head at the wall behind him, clearly not seeing it. "Hey," he whispered, "still with me?" Resting his hands on her hips, he thrust his own, bringing her attention back to him.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head as if to shake out any thoughts of vampires. "I just don't understand what would make someone want to do that. To become one."

Harry sat up, wrapping his arms around her and shifting so she was underneath him. "Who knows, love?" he murmured, kissing her where her jaw met her neck. "Money, power … with enough time you can get a lot of both. Not everyone is Nicolas Flamel." He moved his mouth to her earlobe, nibbling with his lips around her earring, enjoying the sensation of her hands on his back.

"What was it like?" she sighed, making him pause.

"What was what like?"

"The Stone."

Brought up short by her question, Harry looked down at her, trying to figure out what she was talking about. "What stone?"

"The Philosopher's Stone," she said, looking back up at him with genuine curiosity. "I don't think I've ever heard you mention it."

Harry shrugged. "It was just a stone. Nothing special that I recall." He ran his thumb over her freckle-dusted cheek. "Are you all right? Do you still want to … ?"

Ginny smiled back up at him and put a hand against his cheek. "I guess tonight's got me a bit … introspective?" She raised herself up, meeting his lips with hers for a soft kiss before settling back down. Smiling at him, she looked like she was arranging her thoughts before she spoke. "Si j'étais un chat, je passerais mes neuf vies avec toi," she whispered, a stain of pink spilling over her cheeks.

Harry squinted down at her, processing what she'd said. "If I were a cat—"

"I'd spend my nine lives at your side!" Ginny finished for him. "See, you're not the only one who can say things in French."

"Oh, yeah?" Grinning, Harry searched his memory. "Est-ce que je peux avoir ta photo pour montrer au père Noël ce que je veux pour Noël?" he murmured, punctuating his words with kisses on her neck, collarbone and chest, making Ginny laugh.

"Wait, something about a picture and Christmas?"

"Can I have your picture to show Father Christmas what I want for Christmas?" Harry slid his hand down her neck to rest on her breast, squeezing gently.

Ginny raised an eyebrow and slid her hand down his side, tickling the thin skin over his ribs before creeping underneath the waistband of his boxers. "Hold on, I have … okay." She looked back up at him, giving him what he knew she thought was her sexy look. "As-tu une carte? Je viens … no, I can't remember the rest! Supposed to be something about a map and eyes."

Harry used his knee to part her legs, settling down between them and resting his head on her belly. "Where did you learn these?" he asked, enjoying the sensation of her fingers threading through his hair.

"When I was out shopping earlier. The shop girls were very obliging."

"I can imagine."

"One of them asked to see a picture of you."

"Yeah?" Harry lifted his head and looked up at her. "Did you show her one?" he asked, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her knickers.

"Yes." Ginny raised her hips as he slid the barely-there knickers off her hips and down her legs, her scent sparking fireworks in the primitive part of his brain.

He lowered his face between her legs, taking a deep breath. "Which one did you show her?" he asked, his breath stirring her damp curls.

"My favorite one." Ginny's voice came out in a breathy whisper, the sound of it giving Harry a shiver in his belly.

He darted his tongue out to taste her, the tangy salty sweetness of her achingly familiar but still thrilling after all of these years. "Which one is that?" he murmured, using his warm breath on every bit of her.

Ginny didn't answer for some time and Harry thought she'd given up trying when she finally spoke. "That one that you sent me. Trackies. No shirt," she said, her last words a low moan.

Harry chuckled, remembering when he'd taken the picture. She'd been in Boston at a conference and he'd sent it to show her what she'd been missing and he had no idea it was her favorite. It gave him a little thrill to know it.

She shifted underneath him, making that little impatient hum that never failed to turn him on and he let out a little groan in response. His stomach clenched with desire as he used his hands to spread her open to him, focusing on driving her insane with pleasure. The memory of her in that dress and that mask, always beyond his reach spurred him on and he vowed to remind her just who she belonged to.

Ginny had turned to liquid fire beneath his mouth and hands, hips moving in time with her gasps and sighs. Harry looked up, tracing the contours of her body with his eyes, including the wobbly bit of stomach that she hated but he secretly adored. Her arms were thrown over the pillows and her head turned to the side, her bottom lip captured in her teeth as she anticipated the release he was working on giving her.

Gripping her hips to hold her still, he returned to his task, using all of the knowledge he'd gained about her over the years to get her to reach that peak and slide down the other side. She let out a series of soft "Ohs," the sounds generating prickles all over Harry's scalp and down his back as she climaxed against him.

"Beautiful," he murmured, another rush of heat sweeping over his skin as he knelt in front of her, watching avidly as she came back to herself.

"What?" Ginny pushed up from the bed, settling down in front of him. She placed a gentle kiss on his hip, right between the stag's antlers.

"I said you're beautiful," Harry whispered, bending down to kiss her. She pushed him away, shaking her head as she pulled down his boxers, freeing his erect cock. "What? You don't agree?"

She didn't answer, choosing to take him in her hands and stroke him up and down instead. She looked up at him, raising one eyebrow, before parting her lips and taking him into her warm mouth.

Still on his knees, Harry closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. Opening his eyes again, he saw Ginny looking straight at him as she slid up and down his rock-hard shaft. The sight of her lips wrapped around him gave him a swooping sensation in his stomach and he reached down, combing his fingers through her shining hair. "Beautiful," he whispered again.

All too soon, he was robbed of words as she continued to work her own sort of magic on him. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he swayed on his knees before giving up and sinking down onto the bed in a rustle of covers. Pleasurably light-headed, he was only vaguely aware of Ginny sliding her body against his before she whispered in his ear. "Beautiful."

"Hmph," Harry murmured, capturing her lips in a long kiss as he settled his body on top of hers, stomach clenching as it always did when she spread her legs for him.

"Harry," she whispered, brown eyes serious. "Have you done it yet?"

"Mmm? Done what?" he asked, pushing up from her.

"The spell."

"Which—oh. Erm, no?"

Ginny looked thoughtful for a moment, nibbling on her bottom lip before looking back at him. "Could you … not … do it?"

An icy chill followed by a flash of heat left Harry with a shivering sensation and he fought for words, finally wheezing out, "Okay."

"All right?" Ginny asked, frowning at him in concern.

Gaining control over himself, Harry nodded more vigorously than he meant to. "Yeah! Just, erm, surprised. You're sure?"

Ginny put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him down to her. "Yes, I'm sure," she said, her breath tickling his ear. "I thought maybe we'd at least give it a try."

"What if …" Harry said, lowering himself back to the bed and taking her in his arms.

"We didn't need any help with Allie." Ginny looked at him, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her hear. "Would you rather we make a trip down to Brittany and see if we can convince a Selkie maid to let us borrow her skin?"

Harry's memory flashed back to languid nights making love to Ginny on top of Marella's indescribably sleek and soft Selkie skin when they were desperately trying to have their first child and he grinned down at her. "Am I not enough for you anymore?" he asked, trailing a hand up her ribs to her breast, cupping it and squeezing gently.

"Your fur isn't as soft," she said, rubbing her palm against the hair on his belly before gliding around to his bum and pulling him towards her.

"How do you stand me?" Harry rolled over, re-positioning his body between Ginny's silky-smooth legs, absurdly conscious of the dark hair covering his lower half.

"You have certain charms," she said, reaching down between them for his cock, wrapping her hand around him and sliding the head up and down her slit, spreading her warm wetness all over him before finally guiding him into her.

Harry paused, savoring the sweetness of that initial moment of connection when he felt like he could just dissolve into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he caught his breath. Ginny's hands sweeping over his shoulders and back and her quiet voice in his ear prompted him to start moving with slow, purposeful strokes.

Slow and purposeful, however, was not the sort of mood his wife was in and she let out a low hum, shifting her hands down to his bum, digging in her fingernails. "Harder," she hissed, eyes fixed on his and he was only too happy to comply, pulling out and pushing back into her as hard as he dared, grinning when she breathed out a short, sharp, "Yes."

Harry allowed himself to sink into a world of pure sensation, shutting out all thoughts of vampires, stolen art and reunited lovers. Only Ginny's lithe body underneath him seemed like it fully existed, moving in perfect sync with his as they strove to drive each other out of their minds. He caught a burst of her perfume as he sucked on her neck, making her squeak and rake her nails across his back in retaliation.

"Are you marking me, love?" Harry murmured, lips tracing a path along her skin.

"I should have marked you tonight," Ginny said, eyes half-closed in bliss. "All of those women, throwing themselves at you." She turned her head, biting down on his earlobe. "Shameful."

"What about you? I thought your ferret friend was going to take you home."

Ginny wrapped her legs around his waist, locking them at the ankles to hold him still within her. "What if I had gone home with him?" she asked, tracing the tip of a finger along his jaw.

Harry captured her finger in his teeth and bit down before letting it go. "One of you would have been in for a bad time."

Shifting underneath him, Ginny raised her arms high above her head in a luxurious stretch. "I'm just having a terrible time right now."

"Yeah?" Harry started moving again, hoping to soothe the deep ache from being still.

"The worst," she sighed, closing her eyes as he slid his arms under her back to lift her up. In moments, she was straddling him and she laughed as he grinned up at her. "Much better."

Looking up at her, Harry had to force himself to swallow the hot ache that rose in his throat. Since having the boys, she hadn't liked to be on top of him as often, citing the cruelness of gravity and he reveled in the sight of her rolling her hips against his for maximum pleasure. She leaned forward and he caught her hands with his, letting out a groan as she started sliding up and down his cock, creating the friction they both longed for.

Using his grip as leverage, Ginny began coming down with more force, making Harry grunt in satisfaction. He wanted to put his hands on her hips, on her breasts and anywhere else he could reach, but he held tight to her hands, breath coming harder as she continued her assault. Mesmerized, Harry stared as she threw her head back, her lips curved in a perfect O as she hurtled past the point of no return.

Seized by an overwhelming urgency for his own release, Harry gave in to his desire for control and in moments he had Ginny turned over on her stomach, long red hair spilling down her bare back. Bending over her, he swept her hair aside, trailing his lips along the dip of her spine before sliding back into her heat. Electricity seemed to arc through him as he drove into her and she turned her head to kiss him, swallowing his groans as he finally crested his own wave of ecstasy.

An overwhelming lassitude swept through Harry and he collapsed down onto the bed, pulling Ginny close to him. They shared soft touches and kisses, giggling as their sweaty skin stuck together. "All right?" Ginny whispered, nuzzling his neck.

"Very," he answered, kissing the top of her head as his heart slowed down to its normal rhythm. "You?"

"Mm." Harry felt her shrug and he lifted his head, looking down at her, meeting her mischievous eyes as her hand drifted down his chest and stomach.

His skin tingled where she touched him and he let out a breathless chuckle. "Minx. I might need a little while, yeah?"

Ginny pouted, cupping her own breast and running her thumb over the pink nipple. "I don't," she said, the pout morphing into that smile that never failed to fill him with longing.

* * *

"Oh, Mum! Let me show you what we brought you from Paris!" Harry watched as Ginny waved her wand, restoring the forgery of Egbert Cornelis Janszoon to full size.

"Oh … my," Molly said, looking first at the painting and then at Arthur. Harry tried to recall the last time he'd seen her at a loss for words and he came up empty.

"Well, who is this fellow, then?" Arthur came to stand next to Molly, frank admiration on his face. "He looks a bit …"

"Dutch, Dad. His name is Egbert Cornelus Janszoon and I knew you had to have it as soon as I saw it."

"That's very nice of you, dear, but I'm afraid—" Molly began, only to be cut off by her daughter.

"There's the perfect place for him right there, right above the wireless." Businesslike, Ginny picked up the painting and strode over to the wireless, using her wand to affix the forgery to the wall, taking pains to make sure it was straight.

"Smashing, darling!" Arthur stood with his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels as he looked at the painting.

James burst into the lounge, Allie hot on his heels. Both of the boys stopped still at the sight of the new addition to the Burrow's lounge and stared. James pointed at it, a frown on his normally cheerful face. "Bad man," he said, startling Harry.

He bent to scoop him up, not sure what was coming next. "Hey, let's go out into the garden and look at the gnomes, okay?" he said, taking Allie's hand. He looked at Ginny, communicating with her in that wordless way parents seemed to have. Bad man? Does he mean the vampire he became? How does he know?

Outside, he set James down and watched as his boys swarmed up the play structure he and Ron had built that one Christmas. James didn't seem to still be bothered by the painting and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Allie had managed to finally make it up to the second platform when Ginny came out, putting her arm around his waist.

"They'll take it down as soon as we leave," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You think so? Your dad seemed to be pretty taken with it."

Ginny snorted. "He's got a good poker face." They watched the boys play, the both of them shouting in delight at the discovery of a nest of gnomes near the slide. "Did he say that Egbert was a bad man?" she asked after several moments.

"He did."

"Do you think …?"

"Dunno. Your dad did mention that they haven't seen that 'odd dog' this morning. He seems to have skipped breakfast this morning. Your mum had made him a full English with extra sausage." He wasn't surprised that Coyote had made Himself scarce as soon as they'd gotten back that morning.

"Hmm. Well, lunch is almost ready. Help me with the boys."

Allie clinging to him, Harry paused at the back door to the kitchen, casting one last look over the sunny spring back garden. "Well, back to normal life in a few days, eh?" he said to his son as they entered the kitchen. Just as he closed the door, he thought he heard the distant yipping of a coyote.


End file.
